A Home for Fear
by miraeyeteeth
Summary: Pitch languishes after his defeat until Jack Frost comes to find him. An exploration of what Pitch's place in the world should be. Additionally, there are zany antics.
1. Fear's Home

_Shh, shh, don't be afraid… The boogeyman isn't real, after all…_

Pitch Black lay in the comforting blackness of his lair. The Nightmares had long since left him be, alone to wallow in his own greatest fear- loneliness and obscurity.

Why?

Why did everyone reject him? So what if fear wasn't the most pleasant emotion to experience? Not everyone could be the personification of hope, wonder, or fun. He couldn't help his nature any more than the Guardians could.

It wasn't fair.

Of course, that was nothing new to him. Most people had the nagging fear that life wasn't fair, and that the deck was stacked against them. For some of them, it probably was.

No one seemed to be able to see that fear could protect children, more than toys or eggs or snow could. That child, Jamie… What if he had tried that sledding stunt through traffic _without_ his precious Jack Frost there to safeguard him? There was nothing wrong with being afraid of things that could seriously hurt you.

But always with the platitudes. No, no, there's nothing wrong. Nothing to fear. Hush now… All those pretty little lies.

Maybe he wasn't being fair. Many parents knew how to use fear to guide children. _Now, now, eat your vegetables, or the boogeyman will get you._ Or maybe that was how he came about in the first place. He couldn't remember any more. Funny, the Fairy didn't have any of his memories stashed away. He existed before she did, he supposed. In any case, it's not like he owed who or whatever created him any favours. Always the bad guy, always to be hated, never believed.

"Pitch?" A familiar voice echoed through the blackness.

"Jack Frost. To what do I owe the honor? Come here to gloat?" Pitch asked, not bothering to move.

"You're a sore loser, you know that?"

"You're a Guardian now. Don't you have children to go frolic with, instead of pestering me?"

"And here I was, coming to do you a favour... The great and terrible boogeyman, sulking by himself in a corner." Jack nudged him with his staff. "Come on, get up."

"Don't test me, Jack," Pitch growled.

"Just come with me this once, okay? It's not like you have any other pressing business to attend to. "

Pitch muttered under his breath and got to his feet. "What is just so important for me to see?"

"I've found a niche for you. Follow me." With that, Jack grabbed Pitch by the sleeve and a blast of icy wind hurled them out of the lair and into the night sky. It took mere minutes before they drifted to the ground in front of an unremarkable-looking house. "Here, take a look." Jack gestured at the window.

Pitch gave him a withering look, then glanced through the window.

A group of kids, around age 14 or so, huddled together on a couch. They were intent on a movie playing on the TV in front of them. Suddenly, a creature leaped into the foreground of the screen with a howl. Some of the kids jumped and shrieked, hugging their friends. Then the group exploded into a burst of laughter and playful teasing before subsiding to watch the screen again.

"It's fun, you see? They're getting scared, and it's fun!"

"This is what you bothered me for?"

"Come off it, you grump. I know my fun, and you know your fear. Just because something's scary, doesn't mean it can't be enjoyed."

"…Why are you doing this?"

"Because I know how much it hurts to be alone all the time, and no one should have to deal with that. See, you just need to aim for the right audience. If you play your cards right, you could end up being a bigger name than Tooth, you know. I'm sure you've heard of a little holiday called Halloween..."


	2. Preparations

_Author's note: The previous chapter was intended to stand alone, but I got an idea in my head and had to go for it. I think I wound up making a few of them a bit out of character, and the whole thing ended up a bit goofier than I intended. Make of it what you will._

"You did WHAT?!" North shouted, looking incredulous.

"Jack, mate, no offense, but are you bonkers?!" Bunnymund threw his hands up in the air. "This is Pitch we're talking about!"

"Look, I know it sounds crazy, but just listen-" Jack began.

"No, I am not going to listen to any harebrained scheme you have about _helping_ the guy that tried to throw us all into oblivion! Or had you forgotten about that little incident already?"

"No, I haven't. I'm trying to stop it from happening again."

"By, what, giving him enough power to squash us all outright? If he gets kids to believe in him again…"

"He wants to be a part of something! You remember how terrible it was when the kids stopped believing in you. Keeping him in that state is just going to make him more resentful and angry!"

"So you're trying to avoid him grabbing for power by just giving it to him?"

"I'm trying to make sure he won't want to hurt anyone else!" By this point both the teen and the Pooka were glaring daggers at each other.

"Jack… What if he tries to hurt the children on Halloween?" Tooth broke in, looking concerned.

"I would never let that happen," Jack replied.

"Do you think you will be able to stop him?" North frowned.

"I did it before, didn't I? It'll be fine."

"I still say that we send him scurrying back into the shadows where he belongs." Bunnymund muttered.

"Look, I'll keep an eye on him, okay? And if he does anything suspicious, I'll call for you guys. Promise."

"You'd better."

* * *

Pitch sat at a table in the darkened library, flipping through a book. There was a knock on the window. He glanced up to see Jack peering inside. He frowned and turned back to the book.

Another knock, this one louder. This time the window was frosted, and written in it was "Let me in."

The boogeyman rolled his eyes and got up from the desk to open the window.

Jack hopped inside. "Hey, thanks. So what are you doing in here?"

"Reading. What else would I be up to in a library?"

There was a slight pause, as if Jack was deciding against the first reply that came to mind. "What're you reading?"

"I fail to see how that matters."

The Guardian leaned against his staff casually. "You know, just making conversation."

"Of course. So, tell me, the other Guardians have sent you to check up on me, correct? Making sure that I'm not reading up on '101 Ways to Subjugate the World and its Inhabitants'?"

"There's a book like that?" Jack asked with a grin.

"I don't appreciate disruptions, Jack. If you must spy on me, be quiet. Or I'll have to make it difficult for you to find me."

"Jeez, you're no fun."

"I was under the impression that was supposed to be your area of expertise, not mine." Pitch stalked back to the table and picked the book back up.

"Isn't it too dark for you to read that?" He certainly couldn't make out any of the words on the page.

"Nothing is too dark for me."

Jack shrugged and went to go wander among the bookshelves. Just what had he gotten himself into? Was he really supposed to watch the Nightmare King for the entire month of October? Cooped up in whatever dusty spaces Pitch decided to occupy? Talk about a nightmare. Already he was itching to go outside and add some frost to the crisp autumn night. Besides, what was Pitch going to do? Get up to some spooky reading? Some bone-chilling research?

Actually, just what was he doing here, anyway? Pitch hadn't exactly struck Jack as the bookish type. Horror stories, maybe? Did the embodiment of fear really need to get inspiration from others? Curious now, Jack headed towards the wall of the library. There had to be a light switch around somewhere.

Several moments and two stubbed toes later, he finally happened upon his goal, a few bookshelves removed from where Pitch was sitting. With a grin, Jack flipped the switch and made a break for it. He rounded the corner just in time to see Pitch slam the book shut and fix him with a glare.

"Oh, heh, was that me? Sorry, just didn't want stumble around blindly in here." Jack rubbed the back of his head and glanced over at the book. An encyclopedia? Looked like it covered subjects from G through I. Well, that cleared up absolutely nothing. He looked back to Pitch, only to find the chair empty. The tall man had vanished into the shadows again. Now he was going to have to go looking for him all over again. With a sigh, Jack went back to turn out the lights and left the library through the window.


	3. The Big Night

One month. One month whole he had been chasing after Pitch, running across him on occasion as the boogeyman went about his mysterious errands. Once at a scrapyard, a couple times in a closed-down shopping center…

He didn't understand why Pitch had to be so elusive. He'd even offered to help the Nightmare King with his plans, but he'd been refused. "If I'm going to be running Halloween, it's going to happen my way, not yours, Jack."

He was starting to worry that Pitch really was plotting something nasty again, and now it was only a few hours to sundown on Halloween. He was going to have to call in the Guardians after all. He groaned. Bunnymund was going to be smug, he just knew it.

* * *

The teens looked positively petrified by the time they stumbled out of the house, clustering together protectively. "Jeez, I've never had a haunted house feel so real before…" One whispered to the other.

"Yeah, but wasn't it a rush?" An older looking boy asked, looking a bit less pale now that he was safely outside again. "It was almost like it was tailor-made with us in mind…"

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourselves." A soft voice echoed around them as a man stepped from the shadows. Startled, the teens huddled closer together, staring wide-eyed at the figure. "Fear is something of a specialty of mine, after all."

"Wh- who are you?"

"I think you already know. The Boogeyman, King of Nightmares, Pitch Black, at your service." He made a little mock bow.

"But… you're not real! Mom said!" One of the younger kids piped up.

"Did she? I guess adults don't know everything after all, do they? Now, I've got one more treat for you… Or maybe you would call it a trick." He snapped his fingers and roiling clouds of black sand rose up around the kids. They gasped and shrank back, but there was nowhere to run. The blackness collapsed over the teens and disappeared, leaving no trace of them or itself.

"Pitch!" Like a bolt from the blue, a pale teen hurtled to the ground to land beside Pitch, holding his staff up defensively. "What have you done?!"

Pitch cackled. "Jack, you made it just in time for the fun part!" His mirth was interrupted when a boomerang struck the back of his head and sent him stumbling forward.

"Monster! Where are the kids?!" Bunnymund's enraged voice echoed through the night.

"They-" Pitch was cut off as a coil of golden sand looped around him and dragged him into the air. He found himself looking into the stormy face of the Sandman. The sound of rapid wingbeats and sleighbells let him know that the other two Guardians were there as well.

"So the gang's all here. How nostalgic," Pitch growled disdainfully. He was stronger now, though, especially tonight. He wrenched one arm free of the restraints and hurled darkness into Sandy's face. The momentary distraction loosened the bonds enough for him to break free entirely. Pitch dove into a patch of shadow in the street and promptly dissolved. "Follow me if you can, Guardians!" he taunted.

"Pitch! Get back here and fight!" Bunnymund bounded from a roof to land near where Pitch had disappeared.

"Bah, he is a coward, only fights when he knows he can win!" North landed the sleigh on the street and looked at Jack. "Now do you see that he is all bad?"

"I don't get it… I really had thought…"

"I'm more worried about what he's doing with the children! We can argue about fault later!" Tooth swooped by them. "Can you tell where he went, Sandy?"

The silent Guardian nodded and created an arrow pointing west.

"Then what are we waiting for?" Bunnymund cried, and leaped forwards.

The Guardians quickly reached the yawning black mouth of a large cave. From deep within, they could hear loud thumping noises, along with what sounded like chains rattling, and the occasional scream. Deeply concerned now, they charged in with weapons at the ready.

They came to a screeching halt at the sight before them. Dozens of kids were within the cavern, many of them indulging themselves at the tables generously laden with all kinds of candies and treats. Others were dancing to some kind of Halloween soundtrack, the source of the chains, thumps, and wails. At the far end of the cavern, another group was sitting down facing Pitch. He appeared to be telling a scary story, punctuating his tale with images that formed out of black sand. He paused when he saw the Guardians come in. "Ben. You take over, you've got some good ones." He said, before leaving to go meet his newest guests.

"Expecting something else?" he asked coldly.

"Uh… Just a little." Jack was the first one to compose himself after the surprise, and lowered his staff. "Why didn't you just-"

"Say something? You didn't seem very keen on talking, just on beating me. Besides, would you have believed me?"

"I'm still not sure I believe it." Bunnymund muttered, looking around suspiciously. "What if the kids want to leave?"

"I've provided transportation." Pitch gestured towards a group of Nightmares penned near the entrance of the cave. "Or I can send them back the same way they got here. It's not as fanciful as your little globes, North, but it gets the job done. You can even talk to the kids yourselves, if you'd like." He smirked. "Well, that is, if any of them can see you."

Tooth raised a hand to her mouth in alarm. "Pitch, you didn't…"

"Don't get your wings in a twist, fairy. I've done nothing to them. They're just older ones, twelve and thirteen, thereabouts. They tend to be a bit more skeptical than your audience." Pitch seemed to take no small pleasure in the existence of kids able to see him but not the Guardians. "Now, are we finished here, or do you still feel like fighting?"

"Uh, no, I think we're good. Right, guys?" Jack said.

The rest of the group had managed to pick their jaws off of the floor at this point. "I… suppose." North lowered his swords. "But I am still going to be watching you, Pitch."

"I wouldn't expect anything less. I believe you can see yourselves out." Pitch turned away to head back to the party.

"Wait." Jack followed after him. "Pitch, I'm sorry about-"

The boogeyman held up a hand to stop him. "I won't ask for your apologies, Jack. Given my prior behavior, it's not like the conclusion you jumped to was unfounded. Besides…" Pitch smiled. It was a sinister looking smile, but Jack wasn't sure Pitch was capable of looking any other way. "If not for you, it would have never occurred to me to try this."

"Aw, was that a thank-you?"

The smile vanished. "Don't press your luck."

"Fine, fine. But I think I'll stick around for a bit longer. Make sure you're not doing anything terrible."

"You're just here to eat all of the candy and make a scene."

"And here I didn't think you knew me so well." Jack laughed.

"Very well." Pitch snapped his fingers and all the lights in the cave were suddenly extinguished. A moment later, they flickered back to life. Most of the guests were now looking at the two of them, or at least at Pitch. "Now that I have your attention, I would like to introduce you all to an old acquaintance of mine, Jack Frost." Black sand swirled around Jack as if to highlight his position. "He's here to join the festivities as well. After all, what goes together better than cold and dark?"

The memories associated with the last time Pitch had used that phrase made Jack falter for an instant. Then he took note of the kids peering at him curiously and saw his chance for making some fun. He leapt into the party. "Hey, everyone! Look what I can do!" He called as snow and ice swirled around him and formed fantastic shapes.

"…I should really get back to the workshop. Christmas is less than two months away…" North muttered, watching the crowd.

"Yeah, I've got business to attend to, back at the Warren…"

"Well, I'm going to go make sure that candy is okay. Cavities, you know." Tooth said, before flitting her way inside of the cave as well.

Sandy shrugged and skipped towards Jack, who was doing quadruple somersaults as the kids looked on.

North and Bunnymund looked at each other. "…I won't tell anyone if you won't." The large rabbit said.

"Deal!"


	4. Aside

_Author's note: This takes place before the Guardians come to find Pitch on Halloween._

* * *

Pitch was just putting the finishing touches on his haunted house when he felt a sudden spike of fear from several blocks away. He paused. The sun was barely down, just what was causing that exquisitely intense feeling of fear? Was someone trying to beat him at his own game? Curious, he moved towards the source.

He had almost reached the area; it appeared to be down a dark alleyway, when he heard the sound of a blow being struck, and a small cry. _Oh, the threat of violence. How brutish. _Pitch thought, disappointed. He looked down the alley to see a man dragging a struggling young girl towards a car.

Cold fury trickled through Pitch. This was _his_ night, and someone dared to try to abduct one of _his _charges? With a growl, he strode to the pair and grabbed at the man's arm. His hand passed through the human's flesh as if it wasn't even there. Pitch gritted his teeth. He refused to be powerless on Halloween, the night dedicated to fear and dark.

Actually, people did tend to be more superstitious about ghouls and ghosts at this time of the year. Maybe he could bend the rules a bit… Producing a handful of glittering black dust, he blew it into the man's face.

The man blinked and suddenly leapt backwards, swearing. "Where did you come from?"

Pitch grinned. This trick would work for maybe a minute- adults were far too good at disbelieving in things- but a minute was all he needed. "From your worst nightmares. Get him," Pitch said, and a horde of Nightmares came pouring out of the shadows, charging at the man. He yelped and ran, hotly pursued.

Pitch laughed. Sometimes, it was good to be him. Suddenly, he felt an impact at his back. Thinking he was under some kind of attack, he twisted around to see the young girl from before clinging to him. She had her face buried in his robes and was shaking like a leaf. Pitch paused. This was something new.

From where he was standing now, it was easy to see the crumpled costume wings on the child's back. She had been dressed as a fairy, of course. He scowled.

"I- I was so scared!" She sobbed. "You saved me!"

"Oh, did I?" He removed the child's arms from around his waist and ushered her back from him. He crouched down so that their eyes were level and smiled. "And who's to say I didn't chase him off so I could eat you myself?"

The girl flinched away, raising her hands defensively. Then, after a moment had passed, she peeked at him from between her fingers. "…You would've done it already." She said, with some conviction.

"Such a brave girl." Pitch straightened. "Fortunately, this time you happen to be correct. I'm not particularly peckish at this point in time."

"Did- did you come out from under my bed to chase the bad man away?" The girl blurted out.

Ah. The child believed in monsters under her bed. Explained how she saw him so quickly. "…Maybe. But I should go back, and so should you." He snapped his fingers and another Nightmare came to his side. "This will take you home. Tell your parents about the man, and tell them the license plate numbers on that car. Leave out the part about me. I'll get a bad reputation- saving kids. It's no fitting job for the boogeyman."

The girl looked at the huge black horse apprehensively. "It's scary." In response, the Nightmare snorted eagerly and took a few steps forward.

"It's supposed to be. But if it knows what's good for it, it'll take you straight home like a good horse, won't it?" Pitch yanked on the Nightmare's reigns, and the creature whickered reluctantly.

The girl still looked frightened, and for some reason Pitch was not enjoying that as much as he should be. He supposed now was as good a time as any to try his hand at the second half of Halloween tradition. Tricks, he was more than experienced with. Treats, on the other hand…

But from what he had read, candy was a traditional part of Halloween, and he was determined to pull this off correctly. Besides, the kid wasn't in any state to do more Trick-or-Treating. Pitch reached into the shadows and drew out a bag that was practically oozing sugar. He showed the girl, then he placed it on the Nightmare's saddle and a coil of darkness held it in place. "For when you get home. Now, up you go." Black sand swirled around the child and lifted her onto the Nightmare's back.

Pitch stepped back and watched the equine leap into the night sky and charge off, the girl clinging to its mane with a yelp. She should be fine; he wasn't as powerful as he used to be, but the Nightmares wouldn't dare disobey him tonight.

He wondered for a moment why he bothered with the child anyway. What did it matter to him, what happened to her? He supposed that he was simply jealous of someone who would try to take away one of the children he was supposed to be scaring. Speaking of which… He turned to look at the kidnapper's car. It wouldn't do for the man to come back and just drive off now.

Pitch smiled and picked up his scythe. When he was done with it, this car wasn't going to be giving rides to children any time soon.


	5. Conversation

"Jack! It's terrible!" Tooth swooped down on Jack, forcing him to halt abruptly in his frost-spreading antics. The fairy held her cupped hands in front of Jack's face, showing him a handful of teeth. "Just look at them!"

"Er, are you feeling alright? They look fine to me."

"They're positively riddled with cavities!" the fairy wailed. "It's Pitch's doing! He handed out all that candy, and I'm sure he's fueling the kids' fears of the dentist!"

Jack stared at her. "Okay… What's this got to do with me?"

"You've got to stop him! Talk to him!"

"Me? Why?"

"He listens to you."

He did? That was news to Jack. The boogeyman had been more cordial to him as of late, sure. Well, he hadn't tried to attack him recently, at least. But it wasn't as though they were buddies or anything. If Tooth was set on something, though, it would be easier to go along than try to argue her down. "Right, sure. I'll give it a shot."

The tooth fairy gave him a brilliant smile. "Thanks, Jack!" she said, before flitting off.

Jack sighed. If he had known that helping Pitch out that one time would have made him the boogeyman's keeper… Well, he still would have done it. Nothing for it, he supposed. This place was going to have to go without frost for tonight. Jack leapt into the air and let the winds carry him off.

* * *

Jack slid under the rotting bedframe and dropped down the tunnel into Pitch's lair.

"Pit- Aaaaagh!" The moment he landed, he heard a sudden snarl and a huge black shape crashed into him, pinning him to the floor. Jack found himself staring up into the maws of some gigantic black wolf, its crazed and red-glowing eyes fixed on him as black drool dripped from the bared fangs and onto his hoodie.

"Nox, no!" A pale grey hand grabbed the creature by the scruff of its neck and hauled it off of Jack.

"Phew. Thanks…" Jack began, before noticing that Pitch was currently lecturing the beast. He sat up.

"What did I tell you about intruders? You go for the Achilles tendon first. Then you can disable them quickly and shift your focus to keeping an eye out for any more of them. If four or five come in at once, pinning only one is just going to get you blasted away." Finished, Pitch turned his attention to his new guest. "Oh. Hello, Jack."

"What is that? And why are you teaching it to maul people?"

"What can I say? I take home security seriously. And you should really knock on the door before you come into my lair."

"You don't _have_ a door."

"Exactly. When I install one, you can then assume that you are welcome to come bother me."

"Oh, come on, since when has being unwelcome ever stopped me from doing _anything_?" Jack asked, picking up his staff and getting to his feet. He grimaced and tried to brush the drool off of his shirt. It came off surprisingly easily; it was apparently made of nightmare sand and quickly flaked off. "But seriously, what is that thing? Nightmares aren't good enough anymore?"

"It's my newest creation. I've been calling them Hellhounds. I wanted to see if I could make something with a bit more loyalty than the Nightmares is all." Pitch smiled and patted the head of the hound, which happened to be at the same level as his chest. "Well, that and I thought something new would be interesting for next Halloween. The children are just going to love them."

"The kids are going to be scared silly of them."

"Same thing, isn't it?" Pitch waved a hand and the Hellhound loped off into the shadows. "Now, what brings you here? Arbitrary as you may appear, generally there is a reason you come to disturb my peace."

"Well, you see, Tooth asked me to," Jack said, noticing the way the boogeyman's eyes narrowed at the mention of the other Guardian. "She's worried about cavities and stuff, you know, from the Halloween candy."

"You can hardly blame me for that. Candy was part of the holiday long before I got involved. It's not my style, you know that," Pitch responded, folding his arms.

"And the dentists?"

"What children aren't scared of places where they get sharp objects jammed into their mouths?" Pitch asked innocently.

"…Sure, right. Can't I ask you to let up on it a bit, though? Please?"

"And why should I?" Pitch snapped.

Jack was slightly taken aback. "Well, I thought-"

"What? That I would take over Halloween, and everything would be fine? I would invite everyone over here for tea and biscuits?" Pitch laughed bitterly. "Oh, no, Jack. I hate the Guardians. I would take great pleasure in watching each and every one of them be entirely forgotten."

"Already tried that once. It didn't stick, remember?" Jack tightened both of his hands around his staff.

Pitch nodded. "Right you are. Unfortunately, you lot are too strong. Trying to bring you down is a waste of my time and yours. But one can always dream, right?"

"Pitch, you don't have to be like this. I mean, I didn't know I was a Guardian. Maybe you-"

"Don't be naïve, Jack. You were chosen by the Man in the Moon. I'm the one he made the Guardians to stop, to protect the children from. I'm the opposite of a Guardian."

Jack raised one eyebrow and grinned. "Oh, you think so? That's not what I've been hearing."

"And just what have you been hearing?"

"Oh, you know. There's a little girl in town who's been telling her friends about how a tall, scary man with a bunch of black horses rescued her. On Halloween, wasn't it?"

Shock and embarrassment spread over Pitch's face, before he suddenly turned away. "No good deed goes unpunished, isn't that how the saying goes?"

"Come on, Pitch. There's no shame in being a big old softie. …Well, okay, maybe a little shame." Jack said with a laugh.

"…You know too much. I'm going to have to kill you now." Pitch turned back to Jack, black sand flowing out of the shadows to gather around him.

"Hah, I'd like to see you try!" Jack retorted, grinning and twirling his staff.


	6. Battle

Pitch's lair was an absolute mess. Spiky black and white monuments of the clash between cold and dark lay scattered everywhere. A thick layer of frost seemed to cover everything, and shards of ice and darkness lay gleaming on the floor. Jack Frost stood in the midst of the devastation, breathing slightly more heavily than usual. His eyes darted left and right, then he took a moment to shake black sand out of his hair and the sleeves of his shirt. "Come out, come out, wherever you are!" He called, holding his staff in front of him with both hands. "I know you're lurking here somewhere!"

As if in response, the boogeyman stepped silently from the shadows behind Jack, smirking in anticipation of his sneak attack. Suddenly, he noticed that Jack was standing facing a mirror-smooth piece of ice, and that he could see both himself and the teen clearly reflected in it. Jack grinned. "Gotcha." He struck his staff against the ground and ice raced from the spot to encase Pitch's legs, trapping him. Jack whirled and leveled his staff at the boogeyman. "Will you admit defeat, villain?"

"I think not." Pitch responded, and whistled. The black hound from before abruptly bounded out of the darkness and clamped down on the staff, wrenching it from Jack's grip. Startled blue eyes met triumphant yellow ones as the Nightmare King grinned. "Now, Jack. Beg me for mercy."

The nightmare sand that had worked its way under Jack's hoodie suddenly began to move, tickling him relentlessly. Jack gasped and convulsed, falling to the floor. "Eeek! You- ahaha! You monster! My one- haha- weakness!"

"Did you really think I wouldn't find out?"

"This- pfft- this is low, Pitch!" Jack cried, clutching his sides and squirming.

"Jack?" The unexpected voice made them both suddenly stop and look at the entrance to the lair. Toothiana was peering into the cavern, looking utterly perplexed. "What's going on?"

For a moment the two of them shared a remarkably similar expression, like two children who had just been caught doing something that they shouldn't have. Then Jack gave her one of his award-winning smiles. "I'm battling evil, Tooth. What's it look like?"

"I think you meant to say that you're _losing_," Pitch retorted as the sand resumed tickling Jack.

"Ahaha! No, please! Make it stop!"

A veritable deluge of dreamsand suddenly poured over Jack, chasing away the darkness. The sandman was peering out of the entrance as well, now.

"Whew, thanks, mate. Seeing that going on was all kinds of creepy." Bunnymund hopped out of one of his tunnels near the sputtering Jack.

Pitch groaned exasperatedly. "Did I somehow forget that I sent out invitations to you lot?" He looked off to one side at the growling Hellhound that was bristling at the Guardians, Jack's staff still held in its teeth. "Nox, heel." The beast went to its master's side as Pitch broke his legs free of the ice.

"We were worried when Jack didn't come back, is all," Tooth said.

"Drop it." The staff clattered to the floor. Pitch grabbed it and tossed it at Jack's feet. "Well, you've got him back. Now get out."

Jack shook sand out of his ears and picked up the staff, ice crackling back over its surface again. "We'll call it a tie, then?"

"Oh, I had you beat, Jack, if your little entourage hadn't showed up. But, if you feel like tasting defeat again, I'll be happy to have a rematch sometime," Pitch replied with a smirk.


	7. The Escape, Part 1

It was around midnight when Jack flew back to his pond for a rest. Fall was coming around in the Northern Hemisphere again, and he was starting to get busy. He'd be working on some snow days for the kids very soon.

There was someone lying prone on the ice of Jack's home turf. He couldn't make out features in the dim light, but there was most certainly a body on the pond. Jack's heart gave a lurch. Were they hurt? What had happened? He quickly zipped down to the ground and hurried to approach the person. "Hey, are you okay?" He asked, before a cloud moved out of the way of the moon a revealed a familiar black-clad figure looking up at him. "Oh, it's just you."

Pitch blinked. "Most people don't react to my presence with relief."

"I'm not most people. What are you doing?" Jack asked.

"Currently? I'm watching the moon."

"What? Why?"

"Oh, you know, the usual. Just pondering if I could construct a cannon large enough to blow that smug meddler out of the sky." Pitch got off of the ground. "But that's not what I'm here for. I have an offer for you, Jack."

"Oh? And does this offer involve darkness, trickery, and scaring the snot out of kids?"

Pitch smiled. "Come now. Do _any_ of my plans not involve those three variables?" He waved a hand dismissively. "You can relax, though. It doesn't involve ruling the world together. I've come to the conclusion that you would make an absolutely dreadful second-in-command."

"Well, gee, thanks for that."

"What I need is a nemesis. A hero, if you will. I'm going to be having a… contest of sorts this Halloween. The Pitch Black Escape. The children who enter will try to get out of the contest location before I catch them. I thought it would lend something extra to the experience to have someone trying to rescue them, too. We can make a competition of it. You see how many kids you can get out, and I'll see how many I can drag off with my Hellhounds."

"Huh. The kids that lose, what happens to them?" Jack asked, looking pensive.

"Eternal darkness and torment, what else?" Pitch responded with a razor-thin smile. Then he sobered. "You recall what I did with the children I borrowed last Halloween, I assume. I'll have a similar set-up this time. They'll be completely unharmed."

"Well, then, that sounds like a blast. Just don't get too angry when I wipe the floor with you!"

"I'm simply quaking at the thought of it." Pitch drawled. "I'll let you know more information once I've finished preparing everything. Oh, and if you could keep the other Guardians from barging in and ruining everything, I would appreciate it." With that, the boogeyman stepped into a patch of shadow and was gone.

Jack stood on the pond for a few moments, puzzling over this strange behavior. Pitch had always wanted to work alone before now. Why the change? Surely the contest would be more frightening if Jack wasn't there. Having someone to rely on in times of fear made people stronger, that had already been proven back when he and the Guardians had defeated Pitch. It could be some kind of trap for him, possibly. Pitch _had_ asked that the others be kept out of this. But it wasn't as if he hadn't had other opportunities to attack the newest Guardian when he was alone and at a disadvantage.

Still, it seemed too good to be true. If he did well, Jack would be considered a hero and gain a fair number of believers. All to Pitch's detriment. Unless… Was this the boogeyman's way of expressing gratitude? Sharing his believers? That would be even stranger for Pitch to do, though. Maybe he was just being competitive… In any case, Jack didn't think he had too much to worry about. He was confident could handle whatever Pitch had up his sleeve.

* * *

_Author's Note: It's not as cute as the last chapter, sorry. I think Pitch the Tickle Monster is the maximum amount of cuteness I can produce. Hopefully seeing the two of them duke it out should be entertaining, though._


	8. The Escape, Part 2

There were probably about thirty kids gathered in the empty lot, most of them talking to each other about the strange posters that had told them to come, the ones that the adults didn't seem to see. Yellow writing on a black background had proclaimed:

_The Pitch Black Escape._

_A night of terror and entertainment. Prizes to be won._

_The horror begins at 8pm on Halloween, at the corner of 2__nd__ ave and Timber Street. Ages 12 and up._

Some of the kids thought it was just a prank. What, was the challenge to escape from the lot? Maybe nothing was going to happen at all. Others figured they were going to get on a bus to somewhere else.

"Bobby, I don't really like this," one girl was saying to a slightly older boy. "You know I hate scary things."

"Relax. Mom said I had to watch you tonight, so you've got to come along. This will probably be lame anyway."

It was at this point that everything went dark, and there was a terrible lurching sensation as though a giant pit had just opened up beneath them. The next thing they knew, the group was standing in the middle of a large, dimly-lit room with high, arching ceilings and a dirty linoleum floor. Cold laughter suddenly echoed from all around them.

"Welcome, dear ones, to the arena. It's an abandoned hospital that I repurposed, though I can't guarantee that _all_ of the former residents are gone. You're on the top floor now. If you can get out, you win. If I catch you… well, most of you will be finding out what happens soon enough. Best of luck!"

The kids looked apprehensively around. A dozen twisting corridors led off in all directions from the main room they were in. There were some paler patches on the walls where it appears as though the signs had been ripped off, but no indication of which way to go. Everywhere looked creepy and even less well-lit than where they currently were.

"I'm scared, Bobby." The girl whimpered, huddling close to her brother.

"It's okay, Lily. It can't be real, it's just a trick. Come on, I'll get us out of here." He grabbed her by the hand and picked one corridor at random. He stepped into one patch of shadows that was particularly dense, and there was the sound of a sudden snap. He looked down to see a black device similar to a bear trap, though without the teeth, fastened tightly around his ankle. Shadows were oozing from the object and moving up his leg. "…I can't feel my leg." Bobby said dully, watching the darkness and feeling the numbness spread over him. Then a note of panic entered his voice. "What's happening to me?!"

The shadows seemed to move faster as Bobby's fear grew. Now they had covered the entire lower half of his body and were spreading rapidly over his chest. Lily screamed and tried to brush them away, but when she touched the darkness, her hand passed through both it and her brother as though they were made of loosely-packed sand. Within moments, the shadows had consumed the boy, and dissolved into nothingness once more.

"Ooh, I got one already. This will be easier than I thought." The voice from before said, a sing-song tone to it.

It was at this point that the rest of the kids panicked and ran.

* * *

Jack had been with the kids from the beginning, though of course they hadn't been able to see him. He'd even taken the same trip to the hospital as they had. He thought Pitch had been understating the effects of travelling through his nightmare sand; it had sort of felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water on his soul. He wondered momentarily if Pitch felt like that all the time, maybe it explained why he was normally so grumpy. Probably not- it wasn't as though Jack ever got cold from his own powers.

He had to hand it to Pitch, though; the man knew how to make an impression. The place he had set up for this was incredibly spooky, and the introduction was a nice touch. Even Jack was a little creeped out by the whole thing.

There was a sudden commotion over at the other end of the room. Jack hurried over just in time to see the kid disappear. He frowned. "You're starting already? That's not fair, Pitch!"

"Oh, I never said I would play fair, Jack. Better hurry up," a voice whispered in his ear and was gone. Jack sighed. How was he supposed to help kids that couldn't even see him?

* * *

Bobby opened his eyes to find himself in a small, unadorned room. At first glance, it seemed to be utterly empty, then there was suddenly a tall man with bright yellow eyes standing in it with him, staring. The kid gasped and scrambled backwards against the wall. He tried to gather up his courage. "Wh-where am I? What's going to happen?"

"What, to you?" The man chuckled. "Nothing. I already won; you're free to go." Once again the room was empty, and the door leading out of it was open.

* * *

Lily had scrambled into one of the hospital rooms during the chaos that had ensued. 407, it was. That meant they were on the fourth or fifth floor, right? How was she supposed to get all the way down on her own? Especially now that Bobby had… She huddled down with her knees up to her chest and tried to fight down tears. "I don't want to play anymore," she whimpered.

She heard a snuffling sound from outside of the room, and the skittering of claws over linoleum. Lily froze, holding her breath. There was something out there. _Please don't let it find me, please…._ A huge black creature, a wolf maybe, moved past the doorway. She heard it pad a short ways down the hallway, then stop. The steps started coming nearer to her room again. "No…" Lily whispered, shrinking further back into a corner, willing herself to be invisible.

She could just see the head of the wolf, with its glowing red eyes, peering into the room when it suddenly froze. Literally, it seemed. She could see ice glittering all through the beast's fur. "What the…?" She said, and she could see her breath condensing in front of her, as though the room had suddenly dropped several degrees. She shivered. Ghosts were supposed to cause sudden temperature drops, right? The warning about how all the residents of the hospital might not have left echoed in her mind.

Writing in frost suddenly started to appear on the floor in front of her. Lily shrieked a little and scrambled back. Still, she couldn't keep herself from reading the message.

_Don't be scared._

_I'm here to help. My name is Jack Frost._

A crude drawing of a lily also appeared on the ground. It rose out of the ground and unfurled, creating a perfect replica of her namesake in ice. Lily couldn't help but smile a little. "Jack Frost, huh?" And suddenly there was an ice-pale boy in a blue hoodie crouched near the writing. "Ahh!"

"Whoa, hey, relax!" He said, holding up his hands. "It's okay, I'm not gonna hurt you."

"A-are you a ghost?"

"Not in the strictest sense of the word, no. I'm here to get you out of this place."

"How?"

The boy, Jack, looked around, then pointed up at a window. It was too high for either of them to reach. "How about that?"

"But we're on the fourth floor…" Lily said.

Jack smiled. "Not a problem. Just hold on." He stretched out a hand. After a moment's hesitation, Lily took it. His hand was very cold, but holding it was reassuring. Jack pulled her closer and then they were floating up to the window, which he pushed open and took them both through. The wind blew through Lily's hair as they drifted slowly down to the ground far below.

Once they were back on solid ground, Jack let her hand go. "Taking my prey away, are you?" A cold, familiar voice said from behind them. Lily scrambled to hide behind Jack, and peered out at the man in black who was looking down at them.

"She made it out of the place, Pitch. She won," Jack replied.

"So she did. Rules are rules, I suppose." Pitch sighed and pulled out a small black card. "I have a prize for you, child."

"I don't want it."

The boogeyman paused. "Pardon?"

"I said, I don't want it. You took my brother away. I want him back." Lily said, stepping out from behind Jack to glare at Pitch.

"You're quite sure? Very well, then." The man shrugged and snapped his fingers. Bobby suddenly materialized out of the shadows. He had chocolate on one side of his mouth and was holding a bunch of brightly-wrapped candies in one hand. He looked quite disoriented.

"What the-" was all the boy managed to say before he was pulled into a tight hug by his sister. "Oof, hey, cut it out."

"You're okay?" Lily asked, still not letting go.

"Uh, yeah. It was just a game…"

"The party is a block back down that way," Pitch said, gesturing down a street. "Oh, and here. Maybe you still don't want it, but not every child has the guts to stand up to the boogeyman." Pitch put the card in Lily's hand. "It's a favour. Snap it, and I'll show up. If you've got some people bothering you, I'd be more than happy to scare them off. Now, I've got other business to attend. Farewell."

"Oh, he's off again. I'd better go foil his evil schemes. See ya, Lily." Jack said, taking back off towards the hospital.


	9. The Escape, Part 3

A group of kids were edging their way down a darkened hallway. Some of them had obtained sticks or poles from the piles of abandoned junk that could be found in some of the hospital's closets. These children were leading the way, prodding any suspicious patches of wall or floor before moving ahead. They were making slow progress, but at least none of them had been swallowed by terrible shadowy things. At least, not yet. They were a jumpy bunch, flinching at every creak or groan of the decrepit building.

At last they came to a hallway intersection. There was an arrow drawn in frost on the floor of the leftmost hallway, shimmering with a faint blue glow in the gloom. The kids looked at it for a moment, then huddled to confer in hushed voices.

"I don't like the look of that."

"It's probably a trap or something."

"Yeah, we should probably avoid it. Let's go the other way."

An agreement reached, they headed down the right hallway instead. This rapidly proved to be a bad idea, as they came to a dead end room with very imaginative and chillingly realistic murals of monstrous wolves on the walls.

"Tsk, tsk. You really should have listened to Jack Frost, you know. He was only trying to help," the same mocking voice from before said.

Several of the kids screamed, one braver boy clutched his makeshift weapon and sneered. "Jack Frost? What, is the Easter Bunny here too?"

"Oh, no, that insufferable hare would make a mess of everything. Though I'm hurt by your lack of faith, I really am. Especially since you're in the boogeyman's playground, I would have thought you would have been a bit more openminded… Well, I suppose it doesn't make a difference now." A gaunt man with piercing yellow eyes emerged from the shadows of the wall, as did the rest of the paintings, stepping from two dimensions into three and fixing the children with hungry red eyes. "You can try running now, if you want. It should be quite amusing."

The children began to back away when a gust of freezing wind rushed past them and ice seemed to burst out of nowhere, forming a wall between the kids and the shadows. "Run!" A cried warning snapped the kids out of shock and they rushed back the way they had came. Back down the hallway, to the intersection, and then following the frosty arrows guiding their way. Scrambling down a set of stairs that had been only one turn away. Only once they had reached the second floor and a stairwell blocked with debris did they stop to catch their breath, shaking and gasping.

"Wow, you guys can really run. You should consider trying out for the track team when you go back home." A pale boy carrying a shepherd's crook slid down the stairs' bannister, coming to a halt near them.

"You're Jack Frost?" one girl asked.

"The one and only." Jack said with a grin, sweeping a deep bow. "Here to help."

"Did… Did you get rid of the boogeyman?"

"Um, well, not exactly… But those hounds won't be thawing out 'til spring. And don't worry, I'll keep you guys safe if he does show up."

The kids stared at their protector with a mixed expression of hope and apprehension.

"Now come on, we're almost out."

Progress was made a lot faster with Jack in the lead, sauntering forward confidently and cracking jokes. At least until they came to what appeared to be the main landing of the hospital, where they all stopped and just stared for a moment.

An enormous wrought-iron structure dominated the room, forged into the shape of a pumpkin with dozens of eerie and frightening designs worked throughout. Some were sinister-looking faces, others seemed to be entirely inhuman. The entire thing was lit from within by a large and roaring bonfire, casting a hellish glow throughout the area.

"That's… really something," Jack finally said.

"I'll take that as a compliment." Pitch was suddenly standing on top of the Jack-O-Lantern, looking down at them. "But I've grown tired of toying with you, and you've gotten rather close to escaping my clutches by now. I simply can't have that. So I'll be taking the children." Chains formed of black sand shot out from the shadows behind the boogeyman.

Jack blasted the chains apart with bolts of ice again and again, but more seemed to appear at every turn. It was moments before one made it past his guard and arrowed for the boy who had argued with Pitch before. Jack instinctively launched himself bodily between the kid and the attack. The chain whipped around him, pinning his arms to his side and binding his legs. Then he was jerked forward, dragged into the boogeyman's clutches.

"So predictable, Jack."

Jack gritted his teeth and strained against the chains. Restrained like this, he couldn't line up his staff to get a proper shot at Pitch. "Get to the exit, kids!" He yelled. "I'll be fine!"

"Will you? I really think you've interfered enough. And what better place to keep you than a _Jack_-O-Lantern?"Pitch held the bound Guardian over an opening in the top of the structure. "You know, I always wondered if fire would do the same to you as it does to regular ice. Shall we see?"

Jack's eyes widened. "Pitch, don't-"

The boogeyman laughed and dropped him through the hole. Jack flailed and summoned a gust of wind to blow him towards the walls of the cage, where he managed to hook a foot into an opening and dangle upside-down there, gasping. _That was too close. What is Pitch thinking?_ He shuddered, then paused. Where was the heat? He should be feeling really uncomfortably warm right now. Jack craned his neck to look downwards, and was greeted by the sight of a rather impressive array of lightbulbs, fluttering flame-colored streamers, and other devices that were probably the things making the cracks and roaring sounds of the fire. "Oh, you _rotter_," he muttered under his breath.

The threat of imminent demise and/or painful burns gone, he was free to pay attention to the rest of his surroundings, which seemed to consist of a lot of shouting at the moment.

"Let Jack go! Let him out!" The hotheaded boy was yelling, and the others were hollering in agreement.

"You're in no position to be making demands." Pitch said coldly. "I don't think you understand how precarious your position is. You're in _my _domain, at _my _mercy, and your only protector is slowly melting away."

"He's... He's not a part of this! You're after kids, right? So leave him alone, and I'll… I'll…"

"Oh?" Pitch grinned and vanished, only to reappear directly in front of the kids. They recoiled. "Are you proposing a trade, then? But wouldn't it just be easier to walk out that door and forget this whole thing ever happened? You didn't even know Jack existed until now, after all…"

"I-I'm not leaving Jack."

The chains around the Guardian suddenly loosened. _That's my cue, is it?_ Jack thought, wriggling free.

"How sickeningly loyal of you. Or maybe I should say stupid..." The bolt of ice that struck the boogeyman hurled him right across the room. Pitch scrambled to his feet. "Frost! How dare you!"

"Jack!" The kids looked positively awestruck at the return of their hero.

Jack laughed as he flew out of the structure. "I said I would be fine, didn't I? Now go! I'll take it from here!" The group did as they were told and rushed out the door.

The two immortals exchanged several volleys of ice and darkness. "I didn't know you were so dramatic, Pitch!" Jack yelled as he hurled snow at the boogeyman.

"That was repayment. Don't expect an easy win next time!" Pitch retorted, batting away a chunk of ice with his scythe.

"Psh, the whole thing was under control. I would've won either way!"

"We'll have to see next year, won't we?" A series of rapid attacks from the nightmare sand forced Jack to swoop low to the ground. "Now, go greet your adoring public. I'll make an appearance shortly." Pitch looked down at his ice-crusted robes. "I'm just going to thaw out for a bit first."


	10. Favour

_Author's Note: This is probably the goofiest chapter I've written so far. Poor Pitch._

* * *

It was nighttime, and Jack was perched on the windowsill of one house, practicing a few of his frost-patterning techniques on the glass in front of him. _One of my better works, if I do say so myself._ He thought with a sense of accomplishment.

"Boo."

"Ahh!" Jack flinched backwards, startled, and fell into a snowdrift. "Pitch, don't scare me like that."

"Oh, I'm sorry." The boogeyman said, looking down at Jack with a grin. "Is there a particular way you would like me to scare you? I've got lots of options."

"Pass, thanks. What brings you? It's only been a few days since Halloween, did you miss me already?" Jack asked, climbing out of the snow.

"Hardly." Pitch drawled. "Actually, I'm here because… I… could use your help." He spit out those last four words like they left a bad taste in his mouth.

Jack blinked. "And me without my tape recorder… Did I hear that right? Why?"

"It's the favour cards. They were a terrible idea!" Pitch ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. "I thought that they would use them in emergencies, or to give nightmares to their enemies, something reasonable! But no, I'm getting called in for the most inane things. One girl wanted me to help with her homework!"

"That doesn't sound so bad…"

"I don't know the first thing about chemistry!"

"Really?"

"No, Jack, they didn't cover that in my eldritch abomination introductory seminar." Pitch said, rolling his eyes before launching back into his rant. "It's infuriating! I swear they're just doing it to get back at me from scaring them!"

"I think you're over-reacting a bit here."

Pitch suddenly stopped and looked off to the left. "Oh, piss. It's another one. Jack, you know how to deal with children. You're coming with me." Without waiting for a response, he grabbed Jack's arm and they both melted into the shadows.

Pitch stepped smoothly into the kid's room via the closet. "The King of Nightmares has heard your request and has come. What is it that you require?" he asked, looming ominously over the boy.

And then Jack ruined the moment by stumbling in immediately afterwards and knocking over a chair. Pitch held his face in his hand and sighed.

"Oh, cool! Hey, Jack!"

"Hi, Steven. Sorry about the chair, not used to the whole shadow walking thing." Jack said, putting things back the way they were. "You didn't get grounded over the snowplow incident, did you?"

"Naw, I managed to cover up the evidence. The coffee shop owner said-"

"Yes, yes, this is very interesting, can we get back to why I am here?" Pitch broke in, gritting his teeth.

"Oh, right. Well, you see there's this girl…"

Pitch seemed to perk up a bit. "And you want me to scare her?"

"No! I… There's this dance coming up, and I wanted to ask her…" A faint blush was rising in Steven's cheeks.

Pitch shot Jack a look that seemed to say: _You see what I have to deal with?_ "I believe you're mistaking me for cupid, boy."

"Do you know him? Can you ask him-"

"We aren't on speaking terms." Pitch replied in a tone of voice that implied that he would not take kindly to being asked the reason for this.

"Oh…"

"I have an idea!" Jack interjected brightly.

* * *

There was something terrible chasing Meredith. She didn't know what it was or why it was after her, but she had to keep running or it would catch her. Only problem was, she was getting really, really tired. And she was in the middle of the woods, with no other people or rescue in sight. "No, no, no…" She kept gasping, frantically searching for a hiding spot, a house, something. A tree root caught her foot and she fell. The thing was right behind her, she could feel its fetid breath on the back of her neck. Meredith screamed.

Suddenly she felt someone grab her hand and pull her up. She was sitting on a white horse now, sitting in front of whoever had rescued her. She felt herself shaking in relief. "Thank you," she gasped, turning to look at the person behind her. "…Steven?"

The boy smiled. "I couldn't let you get hurt. I still have to ask you something. Will you go to the dance with me?"

Meredith blushed and smiled, a little. "I'd-"

And then she woke up.

* * *

"Finished." Pitch didn't look happy; he wasn't used to turning nightmares into dreams, and he didn't like it. "If you work up the courage to ask her out now, it should turn out well. Don't expect a repeat performance from me if you mess this up." He looked at Jack. "…I appreciate the help. I'll be finding you again for the next one." Then Pitch disappeared once more.


	11. Pet

Jack dropped into Pitch's lair once more, keeping an eye out for the Hellhounds this time. No sign of them, though Pitch stood near the center of the main area and was holding a squirming rat up by its tail.

"Got a pest problem in here?" Jack asked, alighting near the boogeyman.

"Why, yes, Jack. There seems to be this one irritating pest who keeps coming into my home uninvited, makes a lot of noise and is just generally a nuisance." Pitch responded with a smirk. "Oh, wait, were you referring to the rat? No, it's just food."

"Ha, ha, very clever. But you're not seriously going to eat that, are you?" Jack asked, making a face.

"Me? No, don't be disgusting. This is for my new friend." He walked over to one of the smaller cages and dropped the rat in. "Suppertime, Sara."

"You didn't kidnap anyone, did you… Ahhh!" Jack came over to peer in the cage and recoiled at the sight of its inhabitant. There was a gigantic spider inside, sinking its fangs into the squealing and twitching rat. The thing had to be at least a foot across, it was practically the size of a dinner plate. The rat didn't stand a chance. Jack scrambled away from the cage.

"What, you faced down an entire army of Nightmares without flinching, but one little arachnid bothers you?" Pitch asked gleefully.

"There's nothing little about that thing! What _is_ that?!" Jack's skin was crawling. He _hated _bugs. You never had to worry about bugs in the winter time.

"Theraphosa blondi, or the Goliath Bird-Eating Spider. Poor little thing. I was doing my rounds in South America and one dolt was trying to kill her with a shovel. I've always had a soft spot for spiders; arachnophobia is probably one of the most common fears, after all. So I just couldn't leave her." Pitch patted the cage fondly and opened up the door to it.

"Don't let it out!" Jack leapt into the air and hovered there.

"You're sure you don't want to meet her properly, Jack?" Pitch asked, holding both of his hands to the opening of the cage. One hand apparently wasn't large enough to hold the creature. The tarantula crawled out onto the boogeyman's palms and started using its front legs to brush the bits of rat fur off of itself. "She's actually very gentle, you know. And her bite isn't even deadly or anything."

"Uh, no, thanks, but I- uh, really need to get going. Things to do, yeah. I- I'll come back some other time!" Jack stammered and took off, heading for the exit faster than he ever had before. The sound of Pitch snickering followed him out.


	12. Rescue

_Author's note: Wow, over 100 favorites? I'm so flattered that so many people like this story. You guys are all so wonderful. Thank you._

* * *

Jack was seriously beginning to regret his decision. Jamie and his family had recently come back from a vacation in Hawaii and Jamie had asked him for help. Apparently there was a watch that the kid had accidentally left behind, one that had belonged to his grandfather. Jamie didn't want to think of what his parents would say if they found out that he had lost it, so he had asked Jack if he could fly down really quickly and get it back from the Aqua Hotel on Moloka'i Island. And Jack couldn't say no to Jamie.

Jack hadn't been aware of just how many islands Hawaii had, though. Or just how hot it was this close to the equator. It wasn't as if he could ask for directions, either. He doubted if any of the people here had even heard of Jack Frost, let alone believed in him. He had been flying around the area for hours trying to find the right island, and all the while was beginning to feel worse and worse due to the overbearing heat of the tropical sun.

He was actually starting to get really concerned at this point. Water was trickling down his back and his hand, the usual frost that covered his hoodie and staff melting away. It was getting harder to focus on anything, and his head was spinning. _I should have asked for Baby Tooth's help. She would have done a better job at this than me. _He thought dazedly, rubbing his eyes. _This next island's got to be the right one, though._

As he rode the winds towards his destination, a sudden wave of dizziness and nausea swamped Jack. He felt his staff slip out of his suddenly weak hand, and there was a roaring in his ears as spots danced across his vision. By the time Jack regained his wits, he was already plummeting out of the sky into the brilliant blue sea below. Normally, when he touched water, it would immediately freeze solid. Not this time, apparently. Jack plunged into the ocean. Water closed over his head and Jack felt a rush of panic and dread. _No, no, please no, this can't be happening, not again, no, no! _His thoughts scattered like leaves on the wind and all he could think was that he had to get out.

Jack desperately tried to claw his way to the surface, but he never had learned how to swim and his waterlogged clothing was dragging him down. The wind couldn't reach him beneath the surface, and his icy powers seemed to have deserted him. His lungs were aching for air, but he couldn't seem to get enough energy into his limbs to even try to thrash upwards any more. Everything was going dark. _I'm going to drown again. I wonder if Manny will bring me back as a summer spirit this time?_ He thought numbly. _Or maybe I can't die and I'll just be lost down here forever…_

Something plunged into the water above him. A chain? It coiled around him and hauled him rapidly out of the ocean. He felt a hand grab him roughly by the front of his shirt and he was suddenly staring into a pair of blazing yellow eyes.

"What possessed you to come to the blasted tropics?!" Pitch demanded angrily, holding Jack up by the collar and shaking him.

Jack coughed up salt water, spewing it all down Pitch's arm. The boogeyman looked disgusted. "What're you doing here?" the boy croaked.

"I'm saving your miserable hide is what I'm doing! You were putting off enough fear for me to sense a continent away!" Pitch snapped. "And if you tell the Guardians about this, I swear I will come back and drown you myself!" Nightmare sand wrapped around Jack and he suddenly found himself in a blessedly cold snowbank in the middle of a frozen plain. Antarctica, judging from the penguins nearby. Jack still felt very woozy. _Did that really just happen?_ He wondered, flopping backwards into the snow.

As if in response, Pitch appeared nearby, shaking water off of his arm and muttering invectives about snow-brained winter spirits. He dropped a waterlogged staff on Jack and vanished again.


	13. Aftermath

It had taken Jack half a day of lying in the snow before he felt back to his normal self and was able to ride the wind in a straight line once more. Then, first things first, he went to the Tooth Palace to request help in retrieving Jamie's watch. Then off to Burgess to reassure Jamie. He left out the part about falling in the ocean, though. No need to make the kid feel guilty over Jack's bad decision. Just let him know that there'd be a bit of a delay in the watch's return, nothing to worry about. He'd been roped into a massive snowball fight shortly afterward. Well, okay, maybe he instigated it…

The kids had all headed home and the sun was starting to go down when Jack started pondering. He didn't actually know what Pitch liked, did he? Well, aside from scaring kids and… _spiders. _Jack shuddered a little at the thought. Deciding that it was the thought that counted, in any case, Jack decided to go visit one of his believers who happened to be the daughter of a baker. Everyone liked food, right?

Thus armed with a bag of chocolate-chip cookies, Jack ventured once more into the lair of the boogeyman, as night fell. "Hey Pitch! I come bearing gifts!" He called.

"I'm in no mood to deal with you, Frost. Get out." Pitch's cold voice echoed from somewhere within the maze-like place, though there was no sign of him.

"I'm just coming to say thanks."

"Don't mention it. _Ever." _The growled reply came, with the boogeyman still not showing his face.

"Jeez, what's got you all in a snit? Don't worry, I'm not going to tell North or anyone. Now are you going to take these cookies or not?"

"…If you don't leave, I'm going to put Sara in your hair."

"You wouldn't."

"I'm taking her out of the cage now…" And sure enough, Jack could see the tall man now, opening up one of the many cages.

Jack let out a strangled sound and launched himself across the room, slamming the cage back shut and sealing the lock with ice. "Don't _do_ that!" Jack gasped, snatching his hand back from the metal. "It's not… What happened to you?"

Pitch's normally pale grey skin had an angry red tinge to it, and the skin on his nose was peeling. The boogeyman gave Jack a withering look. "The equatorial sun doesn't agree with my nature any more than it does yours, Jack. I'm sunburnt. Now, if you're finished gawking, _go away_."

Jack paused for a moment, caught between feeling responsible for the condition and finding it hilarious. The latter won out, and Jack guffawed. "You look ridiculous."

"Yes, I'll have you know that I blame you entirely. Next time, don't expect any help. Although I may drop by with popcorn, just to watch you suffer," Pitch replied, herding Jack towards the exit. He plucked the cookies out of the boy's grasp. "I'll be taking these, you don't deserve them. Now, out you go." Nightmare sand coiled underneath Jack's feet and flung him unceremoniously out of the lair.


	14. Holiday

Jack crept into the boogeyman's lair, footsteps soft as snowfall. He wasn't sure exactly how aware Pitch was of what happened in the caverns all the time, but he was curious to see if he could sneak in without being noticed. It was daylight, so Pitch probably wasn't very active right now, right?

He was rather disappointed when he heard a soft growl from a side passage and found himself staring down the snout of a Hellhound once more. Jack frowned and raised his staff, pondering if he could freeze the thing solid before it could sound the alarm. Instead of leaping at him, though, the beast just raised its ears and cocked its head to one side, as if considering Jack. After a moment, it snorted and settled back down on its haunches, the picture of canine indifference.

_Well, that's odd._ Jack thought, edging past the passage cautiously. Maybe the hounds had gotten used to him or something. He didn't bother dwelling on it too much; he had other things to do. So much space, so little time.

* * *

Jack surveyed his handiwork in the lair with pride, then took his staff and ran it over the bars of one of the empty cages with a resounding series of clacks. Within moments, Pitch emerged from one of the tunnels, looking wary. Surprise and confusion flitted over the man's face as he surveyed what had been done to the place. Drifts of soft white snow lay over the ground, and frost gilded the arches and columns, making them sparkle. A huge pine tree made of ice stood in the center of it all, with a string of chintzy Christmas lights strung around it. Pitch was speechless for a moment, then his eyes fell on the grinning boy who stood in the middle of it all. "Frost, what the devil have you done to my home?!"

"I came by to wish you a Merry Christmas, of course! I even hand-delivered you a white one!" Jack replied, looking pleased with himself. "It's a little early, I suppose, only Christmas Eve and all, but I do have a pretty packed schedule around this time of the year."

Jack could actually see the muscles flex in the boogeyman's jaw, that was how hard Pitch clenched his teeth. "Oh, how _considerate _of you. Tell me, did you also bring a present? Perhaps a large bag of salt to rub in my wounds?"

Jack's brow furrowed. "What?"

"Are you really so idiotic as to not realize that reminding me of my enemy's day of glory might be a bit ill-thought out, Jack?" Pitch asked, the shadows around him starting to writhe. "If I had won against the Guardians back then, and on the day that would have been Easter, I invited you to celebrate All Hail Our Dark Lord Day, how would _you_ feel?"

"I'd probably think that you were really terrible at coming up with names for holidays," Jack replied with a cheeky grin.

Pitch just glared silently at Jack, though the shadows settled back down.

"Alright, fine, maybe this wasn't the best idea. But come on. It's Christmas! No one should be alone on Christmas!"

"...Alone? Whatever made you think I would be spending the day alone?"

"The spider doesn't count, Pitch."

"I don't know, she seems to have far more brains than _most_ of the people I interact with," Pitch retorted. "But that's not what I'm referring to. Have you really never heard of Krampus?"

"Cramp whats?"

Pitch grinned. "Oh, it's only the best part of this horrid time of the year. Not as widespread as Saint Nick, unfortunately, but there are a few lovely areas of the world where naughty children don't just get punished with coal… And that's where I get to come in." Jack could have sworn he heard Pitch sigh happily. "Actually, I could probably get started around now. Oh, and Jack? Never do this again." Pitch faded away after one final parting glare.

* * *

_Author's Note: Krampus is basically the anti-Santa Claus. Legends of him exist in alpine European countries, where he shows up to torment or drag away naughty children around Christmas time. I figured this would fall under Pitch's jurisdiction. He doesn't actually drag them off, though, just scares the living daylights out of them._

* * *

_Epilogue  
_

__Pitch returned to his lair just as dawn started to break on Christmas morning. He was in a good mood, having had a wonderful evening of terror. The old fool North had been angry at him, as usual, but he couldn't chase off Pitch permanently, not when the children's belief invited him so _enticingly._ Shedding his shadowy disguise of Krampus, Pitch stepped into his home. Jack's little mess was still there, though the boy himself was long gone. Pitch scowled. He ghosted over the snow towards the tree, leaving no footprints behind.

The tree was rather incredibly detailed, Pitch could actually see the individual needles on it. How strange that that boy had such an eye for detail. Pitch rested a hand on one of the branches, and nightmare sand swirled over the tree, blowing out the tiny christmas lights and warping the icy sculpture into something dark and looming. Pitch stepped back, admiring his handiwork. Tomorrow, he would have to get rid of this mess before it melted and flooded the entire place. But for now, maybe he could just enjoy the sight. Pitch smiled and softly hummed Carol of the Bells.


	15. Tea Time

This time, when Jack went into Pitch's lair, he was greeted by something rather different than the usual. Landing on the stairs, a hand suddenly descended on his shoulder. He looked up to see the disconcertingly wide smile of the boogeyman. "Why, hello, Jack. How nice of you to drop by." The hand on his shoulder tightened a little and he found himself being steered off into a side passage where a collection of run-down and rust-stained furniture clustered together in some semblance of a living room. "Come in, sit down, I'll make some tea," Pitch said, releasing Jack.

Jack's near-perpetual smile was gone, and he stared at Pitch as if the man had grown an extra head. "What's going on?"

"Whatever do you mean?" Pitch asked innocently. "Can't I warmly welcome a friend into my home?"

"Stop it, you're being really creepy."

"How nice of you to say. I'm flattered. I'll be right back, go ahead and take a seat." Pitch gestured at the chairs, then vanished.

Jack spent a moment wondering if he should run far, far away and never return. Curiosity got the better of him, however, and he crept up to one of the threadbare recliners, prodding it with his staff to see if it was something designed to devour him. Some of the stains on the upholstery did look rather suspicious… The chair showed no signs of being anything other than an inanimate object, however. Jack sat down, bracing himself for something terrible to happen. Nothing.

Well, now, this was just starting to be disappointing. Pitch returned with two steaming mugs and handed one to Jack, whereupon it immediately stopped steaming. Jack peered at the rapidly-cooling liquid inside, pondering what sorts of poisons were in it. "Okay, Pitch, enough games, what do you want?"

The gregarious smile slid off of Pitch's face, replaced with his usual sardonic smirk. "Oh, maybe I just enjoy watching you squirm," he replied, sinking into a chair of his own and sipping at his tea. "But, if you really insist on me having ulterior motives…"

"Here we go." Jack rested his chin in one hand, the picture of attention.

"I'd like you to help me get revenge on the Guardians."

Jack stared at him for a second, frozen. "…Alright, Pitch, I'm going to need you to tell me what sort of mushrooms you ate recently."

"Don't be stupid. I'm not asking to choose between the Guardians and me." Pitch said, rolling his eyes. "Mainly because you and I both know very well on which side of that line your loyalties would lie, if it came down to it." The boogeyman added in a flat tone.

Jack looked mildly uncomfortable. "Pitch, I-"

Pitch shook his head. "Don't make excuses for who you are, Jack. You are a Guardian, and that's that. Besides, I just want some help with pranks. You're good at that type of thing, and I figure that I can at least torment them if I can't destroy them. Would you really deny a poor old man a few simple joys in his life?"

Jack snorted. "Don't play the sympathy card, Pitch. You're about as frail as granite."

"I didn't hear a no…"

"Well, what have you got in mind?" Jack asked with a crooked grin.

* * *

_Author's Note- I added a little extra onto the last chapter, after the information note, if you want to read it._


	16. Prank War, Part 1

"I'm worried about Jack," Tooth began, looking at the other Guardians that had gathered up at North's home. "He's been spending a lot of time around Pitch; it can't be good for him."

North shrugged. "Pitch has not hurt Jack. He seems to be fond of boy."

"That's not necessarily a good thing, North. You didn't come with us last time, you didn't see them _playing. _It was beyond creepy," Bunnymund said with a shudder.

"Come now, is good that Pitch is having harmless fun, yes? Better than threatening children."

"What if it's just another one of his plans? What if he's plotting to corrupt Jack or something?" Bunnymund asked.

"You don't trust Jack?" North replied.

"Jack is fine, it's Pitch I don't trust. Leopards don't change their spots so easy."

"Jack's already a bit, well, mischievous." Tooth said, fluttering her wings nervously. "And he's the youngest one of us. What if Pitch is a bad influence on him?"

"Sandy, what do you think?"

The short golden man shrugged. Above his head, a miniature Jack flew around carefreely, zipping this way and that.

"You are right. Even if we think that Pitch is a problem, Jack is free-spirited. How would we stop him from doing as he likes?" North agreed with the silent Guardian's sentiment.

"Well, there's gotta be something. It's not right, a Guardian spending time with that whacker."

From further inside the workshop, there was a series of muffled booming noises, followed by familiar maniacal cackling. Moments later, a soot-covered yeti came storming into the room, smelling strongly of onions. The creature garbled grumpily and waved its arms around. It took North a moment to decipher the message. It seemed as though someone had set off a series of firecrackers, smoke bombs, and stinkbombs throughout the workshop, _and _that all the elves appeared to be hopped up on sugar, only adding to the utter chaos. "And you are telling me _Pitch_ did all this?"

"Yerblag!" the yeti grumbled.

The Guardians all stared at each other for a moment as a single disquieting thought occurred to them all. _What if it wasn't Pitch corrupting Jack they had to worry about? What if it was Jack who was being a bad influence on Pitch?_

* * *

_Author's Note- Yep, short chapter, sorry guys. Part 2 should be coming soon._

_Also, maybe I'm just being greedy, since I have so many awesome reviews from so many awesome people, but I'd really, really love some more. I treasure all my reviews. So, if there's something in the story that you particularly like (or don't like), let me know and I can try to produce more of it (or less). Okay, finished begging now. Move along._


	17. Prank War, Part 2

_Author's Note- Wow, so much feedback. I love you all. Have some insanity!_

* * *

The moment of shock passed, and the Guardians all scrambled out the door. Bunnymund started barking out orders, fumbling for his boomerangs. "Harmless fun, huh? Sandy, you corral the elves! I'll go make sure the toys are alright. Tooth, you-"

As the Guardians charged down the hallway, they passed a cabinet and a shadowy hand shot out from under it to grab Toothiana's ankle and yank her downwards. The fairy gave a startled little yelp, and North brought down his cutlass on the appendage with a yell, severing the shadow from the darkness. It dissolved into a pile of nightmare sand, and Pitch's laughter echoed around them. "Did you really think I was done with you, Guardians?"

"Pitch! Show yourself!" North shouted.

"Oh, so hostile, North. Can't you take a little joke?" Pitch, mounted on a Nightmare, appeared at the end of the hallway. "Well, catch me if you can!" With a whoop, he kicked the Nightmare into a charge and raced down the corridor, away from the Guardians.

They gave chase, following Pitch through the chaotic workshop, veering to avoid piles of giggling elves and disgruntled yetis. The Nightmare charged over worktables, up walls, across wide gaps, leaping over obstacles and seemed to effortlessly avoid the attempts of the Guardians to hurl ammunition at Pitch. The boogeyman cackled and shot insults back at them. "Gotten all slow and complacent, have we? Give you lot a few years without a crisis and you all lose your touch! Frankly, I'm disappointed." He jerked to one side to avoid one of Sandy's whips.

"We'll see who's laughing when we catch you!" Bunnymund growled, putting on a burst of speed.

Pitch spurred the Nightmare through one of the doorways out of the workshop, the Guardians hot on his heels. "Now, Jack!" he cried.

"Jack?" Tooth repeated. The Guardians looked off to one side to see their pale companion smile and wave cheerily, then tap his staff on the ground. The ground below them turned to sheer ice. Sandy and Tooth, floating above the ground, didn't have any problems, but North and Bunnymund weren't so lucky. They both lost their footing and fell backwards onto the ice, as the momentum from their chase sent them sliding uncontrollably forwards. The ice they were on suddenly went into a dip and they found themselves zipping along a long, icy track full of bends, corkscrews, and even loop-the-loops.

"AAAAAHH!"

The track seemed to go on for ages, plunging into dizzying drops and nausea-inducing bends, before it suddenly tilted upwards and abruptly stopped. The two Guardians went flying off the ramp at top speeds and hurtled through the air.

"AAAAAAAHHHHHH!"

_Whump!_ They both landed in a soft pile of snow. The two holiday spirits lay half-buried in the snowdrift, groaning. "What happened?" North asked dazedly, as the world seemed to spin around him.

Pitch was suddenly standing over them, smirking. "That's a good look for you two. You should really be blindsided and knocked flat on your back more often."

Bunnymund growled. "Why was Jack helping _you?"_

Pitch's smirk widened into a nasty grin, and he leaned closer to the Guardian, eyes glittering with malice. "Maybe your dear boy has finally seen reason and decided to join me. Maybe humiliating you two is the first step we're going to take before blanketing the world in cold and dark," he hissed. A snowball suddenly smacked into the side of Pitch's head and he was sent sliding across the ice and ended up in an undignified heap in another snowbank. "Okay, fine. Maybe he just agreed because he thought it would be funny," Pitch added, his voice muffled by the snow.

"Ding ding ding! We have a winner," Jack landed near the others, followed by Sandy and Tooth. Sandy looked rather amused, Tooth a bit more concerned. Jack grinned, leaning on his staff. "Sorry, guys, it was too good to resist. You should've seen the look on your face, Bunny."

"Oh, you are just _hilarious_," Bunnymund muttered, clambering to his feet. He glared at both Jack and Pitch, the latter of whom was also getting up and brushing snow off himself. "You realize, of course, that this means war."

Pitch sneered. "Give me your best shot, rabbit. I'll be waiting." He looked back up the slope to the workshop. "Though first, you may want to make sure that the elves don't cause _too_ much damage to that place, hmm?" With a chuckle, the boogeyman slipped back into the shadows.


	18. Prank War, Part 3

Bunnymund was, of course, the one to fire the first retaliatory shot. Jack managed to track him down just as the Pooka scrambled out of the lair with a Hellhound hot on his heels. A quick blast of ice solved that problem rather handily, though.

"I really _hate _dogs." Bunnymund muttered, skidding to a halt and glancing back at the frozen canine. Then his gaze flicked to Jack. "You sure you hit the right critter, mate? You seemed pretty chummy with Pitch before."

"You know I never miss." Jack replied with a smile. "And you know, holding a grudge like that is bad for you. So, did you get him?"

The Easter Guardian grinned, holding up a bucket in one hand. "Oh, I got him."

A shriek of rage echoed from deep within the dark cavern, and the Nightmare King emerged from his lair, his face twisted with anger and his eyes blazing with hatred as shadows rose from the ground all around him. The effect was, unfortunately, rather spoiled by the now brilliantly pink clothing that covered his body. "What have you _done_?!"

Jack just stared for an instant before bursting out laughing. "Pitch, you- ahahahaha! Oh my gosh! That- I- pffft!" He held up a hand to Bunnymund. "That is a masterpiece!"

The Easter Bunny high-fived Jack, chortling. "You should keep that outfit, Pitch. It looks great on ya."

Pitch snarled. "You'll pay for this, rabbit." The shadows wrapped around him and he was gone.

* * *

It took Bunnymund a while before he noticed that some of his eggs were this odd, off-white, greyish colour. They blended in quite well with the others. It was only when he picked one up to inspect it did the thing crack open and spew this awful, slimy, black _thing_ onto the Guardian's hand, where it clung and made a gut-wrenching, nails-on-a-chalkboard screech. Bunnymund shrieked and flailed his hand, flinging the creature off to smack against a wall and disappear in a puff of nightmare sand. For a moment the Pooka stood still, panting, as chills ran up and down his spine. Then he stared around and experienced a sinking feeling in his gut as he noticed more and more of the false eggs among his own. He would have to get all of them before sending them out for any kids to find. Would they all have those creepy things inside? Bunnymund shuddered.

"Pitch," he growled.

* * *

Sandy's contribution to the war was somewhat more subtle. Pitch didn't realize until he had spent a few nights sure that he heard muffled laughter whenever he turned around to leave the room of a child he had spooked. He was certain he had gotten all of that blasted bunny's dye off of his robes… He twisted to peer at his back and caught a glimmer of golden sand. "What?"

A quickly fetched mirror gave him a better look at the glittering words written across his back. Even in reverse, they were easy to read: _KICK ME_.

"Oh, how mature, Sanderson." Pitch muttered, wiping away the dreamsand.

* * *

Jack was the one who first discovered Pitch's revenge on the silent Guardian, flying up to greet Sandy on his nightly rounds. "Hey, Sandy, how're the dreams ton- whoa!" The small man had a clump of nightmare sand floating near front of his face, forming the shape of a large, ridiculous-looking black handlebar mustache.

Sandy looked at Jack in puzzlement, a question mark over his head.

"Um, you just have a little something here." Jack said, rubbing a hand over his own upper lip. When Sandy went to touch the black sand, it suddenly flowed away from his hand, reforming into a pair of bushy, glowering eyebrows. "Pfft-! Uh, yeah, you got it." Jack said, biting back a snicker.

It took almost a month before Sandy got rid of the thing, during which it also took the form of sideburns, large, dorky-looking glasses, an array of piercings, and a goatee. By the end of it, the Guardians were pretty sure that Sandy was aware of the thing's presence and was just enjoying the joke as much as the rest of them.

* * *

It had taken North a while to amass the materials necessary for his prank, but it was well worth it to hear the commotion going on within the boogeyman's lair. Apparently, dumping a giant pile of squeaky dog-toys into a cavern full of hounds was a sure recipe for hilarity, especially when the cavern belonged to someone as dramatic as Pitch.

"No, you may _not _play with toys given by my enemy, don't even think about it!"

_*squeak* *squeak* *squeak*_

"Miserable beasts! Stop it!"

_*squeak* *squeak* *squeak*_

"This is not behavior suiting creatures of the night!"

_*squeak* *squeak* *squeak*_

"I command you to stop this immediately!"

_*squeak* *squeak* *squeak*_

"Grah!"

* * *

Tooth had done her best to avoid the insanity that seemed to be gripping everyone else. She had more important things to worry about than having some kind of bizarre contest with Pitch. Oh, boys and their egos.

Well, that was until she heard a frantic peeping noise from around the corner of one of her towers. Tooth gasped and sped towards the sound. _If he's harmed any of my girls, Pitch is going to be losing more than just one tooth!_ Tooth thought angrily, and was unfortunately distracted enough to fly straight into the webbing that had been strung across one of the archways. The black stuff clung like glue to her, and she was stuck fast along with a handful of her mini-fairies, the ones that had been making the distressed noises. "Pitch! Let us go right now!"

"Oh, my, Toothiana. Didn't anyone teach you any manners?" Pitch was reclining in the black, silky strands nearby. "You're supposed to say _please_."

"Pitch, I'm serious!" Tooth snapped, thrashing against the webs.

"Ah. I really wouldn't do that, if I were you. You'll be bringing them down on you, with all this movement." Pitch said, his eyes flicking to something balanced on the top of the web.

Tooth froze for a moment, feeling a chill run down her back. _No, Pitch wouldn't… _She craned her head to look up, expecting to see something with far too many legs bearing down on her. Instead, there were a series of teetering buckets perched on the top of the webs, and the moment of her head was enough to send them tipping over. Gallons of water dumped over Tooth, soaking her to the skin.

Pitch howled with laughter. "Oh, the look on your face was priceless." He met Tooth's searing glare with a smirk. "Don't be like that, my dear. It was just a joke. Look, your little helpers are even dry. Aren't I considerate?" He snickered once more before fading into the shadows. The webs faded with him, releasing the dripping Guardian and her mini-fairies.

"Oh, it is on."

* * *

Everyone agreed never to speak of what Tooth did in return for that one. Pitch didn't come out of his lair for a week.

* * *

Jack was the one who finally brought an end to the prank war, at least temporarily, by somehow managing to create a series of ambush-happy stormclouds, one for everyone. Then, when they were least expecting it, they were treated to their own personal little blizzard, or pelted with inexplicable snowballs, or just startled by a sudden rumble of thunder. After three days of that, the chilled group agreed to a truce for now. It was getting to the end of September by now, anyway, and North, Jack, Bunnymund and Pitch were starting to get busier as their time to shine approached. The grudges would have to be laid aside for later.


	19. Nightmare

_Author's Note- Mood whiplash ahoy! This is not a funny chapter, I apologize. I blame my muse._

* * *

Pitch paused when he felt a touch of fear that was as cold as winter. _What has Jack Frost gotten himself into now? _The boogeyman wondered, frowning. _If he's expecting me to pull him out of another metaphorical or literal fire… _But no, this was a different kind of fear, softer, more muffled. This was sleeping fear, a nightmare.

Pitch had been growing stronger again, thriving off of the fear and anticipation of those who he celebrated Halloween with. It wasn't surprising that his Nightmares, in turn, were growing stronger and sneakier as well. But for one to sneak under Sanderson's nose and infect a Guardian? This he had to see.

* * *

Jack was draped over a tree branch, limbs hanging bonelessly over each side of it and his cheek pillowed against the frost-tinged wood. Even the way he slept was completely ridiculous. But the fear… Jack's fear was utterly delectable. Crisp as new-fallen snow, sharp and biting as the north winds that the boy rode. It was even more of a treat for it being so rare. Pitch sometimes got a taste of it when he startled Jack during their games, but for the most part the winter spirit was infuriatingly fearless. Having so much of it available at once was almost overwhelming. Pitch just stood still for a moment, watching the Nightmare and drinking in the heady surges of fright that the boy was giving off.

The nightmares started off small and simple, almost mundane, with Jack falling through the air, stretching, reaching for a staff that was just barely out of his reach. Then the dream shifted, getting darker. An older Jamie walking through Jack. The other Guardians watching and shaking their heads in disappointment. Jack made a soft sound, almost a whimper. The fear was thicker now, with a different nuance to it. A bitter, insecure twist. Pitch couldn't suppress a little shiver of delight. Jack was so good at covering up everything with smiles and laughter, and seeing the Guardian face a buried facet of himself was just fascinating. Fear brought out the most interesting parts of a person, in Pitch's opinion.

The Nightmare wasn't done yet. Again, the scene shifted. This time Jack was sinking, struggling against the icy water that had claimed his life. He couldn't breathe, could barely move. The cold was sapping him of all his strength. Worse, he could see his sister scrambling towards the hole in the ice, screaming his name.

"No, don't… Stay… stay where it's safe!" Jack muttered, though in the nightmare he was screaming his protests into the icy, merciless depths. The girl above him paid no heed, and she got too close to the thin ice that her brother had fallen through. With heart-stopping crack, the ice supporting her gave way and she, too, was plunged into the wintry water. And Jack could do _nothing._ Nothing but watch as his sister suffered the same fate he did. And then there were other still bodies in the water around Jack. Jamie. Sophie. Other children, ones he couldn't save, ones he couldn't protect, even though he had sworn to. He was helpless, he was useless, he was a failure…

"No, please…" Jack mewled, a sad, pathetic, broken sound. A small drop of frozen water fell off the boy's eyelashes, dropping to shatter on the ground below.

Before Pitch really knew what he was doing, he had wrenched the Nightmare off of the boy, his hand around the creature's neck. "You are _never_ to touch Jack Frost, do you understand me?" Pitch snarled, fingers tightening around the struggling Nightmare's windpipe. "He. Is. MINE!" The boogeyman's grip tightened too far, and the Nightmare exploded into a shower of nightmare sand.

"Pitch?" Jack was blinking at him sleepily.

For an instant, Pitch was frozen. _Stupid! Of course such a commotion would wake him up!_ But he couldn't think of anything to say, anything to explain what he was doing. He had no idea how Jack would respond. And all of a sudden, he could feel a twinge of the one fear that brought him no pleasure at all; his own. So Pitch vanished into the shadows without a sound, running away from whatever he would have had to face in those wintry woods.

* * *

_Author's Rant- Danggit, Pitch, no! Jeez, his was supposed to be a fluffy friendship fic and then you decided to go all creepy and dump drama all over it. I swear, I cannot take you anywhere; you ruin everything._


	20. Redress

Pitch paced back and forth in his lair, muttering to himself. "Don't be ridiculous. You are the boogeyman! You are not afraid of what some _Guardian_ thinks of you! This is stupid!" But every time he thought of interacting with Jack again he felt an irritating, nagging fear creep up on him. What was he supposed to say? What if Jack came to the lair again? Worse, what if he _didn't_? What if they were enemies again now? The children looked forward to Halloween; Jack was a big part of the draw. The winter spirit certainly lived up to his title of the Guardian of Fun. What if he didn't come anymore? What if he and the Guardians were going to take Halloween away, force Pitch away from the place he had finally managed to carve out for himself? Would he be able to fight them all off?

One of his Hellhounds came creeping out of the shadows to nuzzle up against Pitch reassuringly. The man growled and swatted at it absentmindedly. "I don't need comforting, you miserable beast! Leave!" The creature whined and slinked back into the darkness.

This worrying was going to drive him mad. Pitch gritted his teeth. Avoiding the problem wasn't going to solve a thing. He would have to find out what the situation was eventually. Better to get it over with, and find out if he had to start amassing his forces now, than to leave it until the Guardians came to drive him off again.

This was going to be unpleasant.

* * *

Jack wasn't the easiest person to find at the best of times. Granted, you could generally find him by heading towards the nearest sounds of trouble, but Pitch had slinked past at least three different groups of playing children and there was not a sign of Jack to be seen, aside from the cold weather. Where else could he be?

A thought occurred to the boogeyman. Considering the nature of that last nightmare, he'd think that it was the last place Jack would have wanted to go, but the frost spirit had surprised Pitch before.

Sure enough, Jack was on the lake from which he had been born, skating over the ice alone. Pitch stepped out of the shadows. "Jack."

The Guardian stopped abruptly to turn and look at the Nightmare King.

Pitch held up his hands in what he hoped was a disarming gesture. Not being threatening wasn't exactly his area of expertise. "I came to apologize. My subjects can be… unruly. I didn't intend for you to be put through that sort of experience." Pitch said, staring fixedly at a point somewhere past Jack. He couldn't meet the Guardian's eyes. "It won't happen again. …I'll be going, now." He turned to leave.

"Hey. First, mind telling me what was the deal with the 'mine!' bit?" Jack asked.

Pitch paused, and glanced over his shoulder. "Obviously I'm the only one allowed to frighten you, Jack. I cannot abide the thought of someone else feasting on your fear. That's _my _job."

"That's pretty creepy, you know."

"I'm supposed to be creepy. It's part of the job description." Pitch said with a shrug.

"I'm hurt, though, really I am. So I'm just part of your buffet? I thought we had something special, Pitch," Jack clutched at his chest as though he had been wounded, a wicked glint in his eye.

It felt as if a tight knot in Pitch's stomach had suddenly come undone. It took an instant longer for him to respond than it normally would, the sudden feeling of relief taking him by surprise. "Oh, but I don't think you understand how delicious your fear is, Jack. It's so sweet and cold, like ice cream." Pitch replied with a smirk of his own. He turned back around to face Jack again, sighing dramatically. "It's really such a pity there's so little of it. Besides, what else do we share, aside from perhaps a common joy in winding up the Easter Bunny?"

"Well, of course. Bunnymund does have the best reactions to pranks. He gets worked up so easy. And there's Halloween, too."

"Oh, so you're intending to pull your Guardian antics on me this year and ruin all my fun again? How am I supposed to properly traumatize the children with you hanging around?" Pitch replied exasperatedly.

"Well, you could always try to stop me from showing up. I mean, you'd fail, but you could always _try_," Jack said with a cocky grin.

"Don't tempt me, Frost," Pitch retorted. "I did what I came here for. I'll leave you to your skating."

"Hey, have you ever tried it? Ice skating?" Jack asked.

"No. It's not exactly something you'd expect the boogeyman to do, is it?"

"Do you want to?"

"I... I have better things to do than flail around on ice," Pitch said.

"You're just scared you'll fall flat on your butt," Jack taunted.

"If you think some schoolyard shaming tactic is enough to manipulate me into doing what you want, you are sadly mistaken."

"Alright, alright. If you change your mind though, the offer still stands."

"Very well." Pitch said with a shrug as he stepped back into the shadows.

* * *

_Author's Note- If you're wondering why Pitch was so worried at the beginning of the chapter, well, he's used to being feared, suspected, and (rightfully) blamed for doing bad things. He doesn't know how much Jack saw/heard when he woke up from a traumatic nightmare, something Pitch is known for, and he knows that Jack is pretty much the only thing standing in the way of the Guardians kicking him back under the bed. Plus, he might feel a liiiittle guilty for letting the nightmare go on for as long as it did._

_I might write a chapter of this situation from Jack's perspective, if people are interested. Otherwise, we'll head away from this touchy-feely junk and back to your regularly scheduled snark and antics._


	21. Waking Up

_No! Please no! This can't be happening! Not to them, please! This wasn't supposed to happen! _Jack screamed into the icy waters of the lake, but to no avail. He had been weak. He had been useless. He had been unable to save even one child from the depths and now it was too late. They were gone, and nothing, _nothing,_ could bring them back.

And suddenly the world was torn apart and everything dissolved into a riot of half-focused images and unintelligible sounds. Slowly a rage-filled voice became audible over the cacophony, and Jack could make out someone snarling his name. "-Jack Frost, do you understand me? He is _MINE!"_

Jack jerked into wakefulness, completely disoriented. He opened his eyes to see Pitch standing next to him, glaring poisonously at a fistful of black sand that was trickling through his fingers. "Pitch?"

The boogeyman flinched and turned wide yellow eyes on him for a split second, before suddenly vanishing.

"Wha-" Jack began, before the memories of the nightmare came flooding back and the image of Jamie's blankly staring eyes struck Jack like a blow to the stomach. He gasped and clung to his branch like a drowning man would cling to a piece of driftwood. _No, not the kids,_ Jack thought, gulping against the nausea rising in his throat and blinking back the tears burning in his eyes. _I failed them. I'm supposed to look after them!_

The last of the sleep that had fogged his mind finally cleared away and it occurred to Jack that he wasn't in the lake, and there weren't any kids around. It had just been a nightmare. Just a bad dream, right? Jamie and Sophie and everyone, they were all still alive. No one had drowned. It was okay. He clutched the tree for a few moments longer, until his arms finally stopped shaking and his breathing slowed from frantic panting to something more manageable. It was okay, he told himself.

He had to go see the kids. Right now. It was the middle of the night, they would be asleep, but he had to at least make sure they were safe in their beds. He had to wash away the image of those small, still bodies out of his brain.

* * *

Only after Jack had checked up on all the kids in Burgess and made each one of their windows a work of art with his frost did he finally start to calm down. It was okay. They were all fine. He was tempted to go wake Jamie up and talk with the kid, but he wasn't sure about his control yet and was pretty sure that abruptly waking Jamie to cling to and cry at would freak the kid out a little. He'd see Jamie in the morning, once he was sure he could meet him with a smile.

In the meantime, though, he had to do _something_. He was still tingling with nervous energy. He wound up wandering aimlessly, until he finally found himself standing at the edge of the ice of his lake. The one he had been born again from. The one he had drowned in.

Strangely, the sight of it in the predawn light was calming, reassuring. This wasn't the place where he had failed. This was where he had triumphed. This was where he had saved his sister. This was where he had become a Guardian. This was where Pitch had been defeated.

Pitch. The boogeyman had finally resurfaced in his thoughts. What had he been doing there? Well, obviously, he was the Nightmare King, it made sense that he had been around for Jack's worst nightmare. But why? Jack had been under the impression that they were friends of a sort. Had he suffered a relapse? Was this revenge? But surely Pitch would have stuck around to gloat if that were the case. The look he had given Jack had been odd: surprised, almost stricken. And he had been yelling something. Something about Jack being his? What did that even mean?

A faint chill ran down Jack's spine and he knelt suddenly by the lake, swiping a hand over the ice. It smoothed to a mirror-fine sheen, showing his reflection staring back at him. White hair, blue eyes, pale skin, check. No sign of black or yellow, no nightmare sand coiled around his neck. Okay, so he wasn't corrupted or anything, probably. Maybe Pitch hadn't been there? Had he imagined it?

Well, he'd deal with that later, or something. It didn't matter too much right now. The sky was getting lighter now, the sun rising to chase away the night. He still wasn't feeling quite his usual peppy self, and the kids would be getting up soon. He didn't want to miss spending a fun Saturday with them due to being gloomy, so he'd have to calm down and let this go.

Jack stepped onto the ice and pushed off with his foot, gliding effortlessly across the lake. As he swooped and zipped over the frozen surface, he felt the tension that had built up inside him start to slowly bleed away. He loved skating. It was like flying, but different at the same time. There was just him and the ice and the fast, fluid movements. He felt his heart lift as he leapt into a pirouette and landed gracefully once more on the ice. Everything was right with the world again. The sun was shining, the kids were fine, and Jack was having fun.

"Jack."

Aaaaand then Pitch decided to show up. Jack whirled to face the boogeyman, not sure what to expect. The tall man jerkily raised his open hands, standing in a stiff posture that was unlike his usual languid ease. He didn't meet Jack's eyes. He almost looked ashamed. The apology was still a bit of a shock, though. So a Nightmare had gotten away from him? Well, Jack had seen the creatures act of their own accord, even against Pitch before, so it wasn't impossible… Was that the black sand he had seen before?

Now Pitch was trying to run away, without even letting him respond. Typical. Jack wasn't about to let all of his questions go unanswered, though. "Hey. First, mind telling me what was the deal with the 'mine!' bit?"

"Obviously I'm the only one allowed to frighten you, Jack. I cannot abide the thought of someone else feasting on your fear. That's my job."

Oh. That dropped things into place. Pitch seemed to see Jack as his the same way he saw Sara as his. The boogeyman had come across something that he found interesting and laid claim to it, and heaven help anyone who harmed something that was _his_. That was almost sweet, in a creepy sort of way. Hopefully Pitch wasn't planning on stuffing him in a cage for safekeeping anytime soon, though. "That's pretty creepy, you know."

"I'm supposed to be creepy. It's part of the job description."

Well, no sense in letting the guy think Jack was going to hate him forever. Jack launched back into the teasing that had become customary between them, and he could actually see Pitch relax. Yeah, everything was back to normal now. Jack was even in a good enough mood to offer to teach Pitch how to skate, and he could have sworn there was a split second where Pitch actually wanted to take him up on it. But then the boogeyman lapsed back into his usual prickly refusal. Jack didn't understand why Pitch valued his reputation over fun all the time, but he didn't understand a lot about the boogeyman, really. Although he liked to think that he knew a bit more now.

* * *

_Author's Note- Jeez, Jack, you're a complicated dude. Pitch is easy to write- he's a self-centered jerk. But you... Ergh, I hope I kept you in character. Drama is hard. :C We should see a return to the snark now, though, so it's all good._


	22. Mirror

Jack was just passing through one town when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a tall black shadow slip through one of the windows he was flying past. Jack came to a stuttering stop and whipped back around. Sure enough, there was Pitch, standing in a bathtub and tugging the shower curtain across to hide himself.

"Hey, what are you doing, lurking in someone's bathroom? Being a creeper?" Jack asked, leaning on the windowsill.

"I don't know if someone who's peering into a bathroom through the window is one to talk, Jack. Besides, this is a normal enough place for me; people worry about something lurking behind the shower curtains almost as much as they do things under beds or in closets. Now, hush. This is one of my favorite games."

"Games?" Jack repeated, before he heard voices of several girls coming from outside of the room.

"Come _on_, Stacey, it's your turn. You gotta do it."

"Yeah, you're not a chicken or anything, are you?"

"No, it's just… I…"

"Don't be lame. Go on."

A preteen girl stepped through the doorway, chewing her lower lip. After a moment's hesitation and a pleading look shot through to whoever was standing outside, she closed the door. Facing the mirror, her back to Pitch and Jack, she flicked off the light.

"Bloody M-mary," she whispered. The girl looked terrified. Jack could see Pitch's smile widen.

"You're not gonna jump out at her, are you? She's already really scared," Jack hissed.

"I know what I'm doing, Jack. Don't you trust me?" the boogeyman asked, grinning.

"Of course not," Jack replied with a snort.

"B-bloody Mary," the girl whispered again, unable to hear the conversation going on behind her.

"Clever boy. But I can't have you interfere." Pitch flicked his hand and shadows silently shut the window, flipping the latch and trapping Jack on the outside of the house. "Just sit tight."

"Bloody… Mary!" the girl whimpered a third time, flinching away from the mirror and squeezing her eyes shut. After a moment, she peeked out again. Nothing. She sighed with relief and flicked the lights back on. It was only when she opened the door did Pitch act, slipping out from behind the curtain and flinging a fistful of nightmare sand through the doorway.

There was suddenly a flurry of screams and shrieks from the other girls. "Stacey, y-your eyes!"

"Bloody Mary got Stacey!"

"She'll get us too now!"

Jack heard the girls scramble away, screaming for their parents. Stacey just stood in the doorway, looking confused. Pitch threw back his head and cackled gleefully before fading into the shadows to reappear on the windowsill near Jack, looking contented.

"…That was actually pretty nice of you, Pitch," Jack said.

"Nice? So terrifying children is nice now, is it?" Pitch asked, leaning against the building. "It was simply more efficient, Jack. This way, I get to feed on the terror of four girls, instead of just one."

"Suuuure, Pitch. Whatever you say," Jack replied.


	23. Lessons Learned

It was dark. And cold. And Daniel was scared.

It had seemed like a good idea at the time. His mom was being completely unreasonable. She expected him to spend his whole Saturday to do homework and clean his room, even do the dishes! It was barbaric. So he'd packed up a set of clothes and a couple of chocolate bars in his backpack and ran away. Anywhere had to be better than _here._

Well, so he thought. But the sun started to go down, and it started getting cold outside. He had headed into the woods at first, knowing that if he stuck to the streets, he'd probably be spotted and brought back home right away. He hadn't realized just how similar one tree looked to another, though, and once he had gone off the path it had been impossible to find his way back. He was completely lost.

Daniel rested against a tree, trying and failing to keep calm as night fell around him and the wind picked up, making eerie moaning noises through the woods. This wasn't fun anymore. He wanted to go _home_.

There was a sudden snapping sound to his right, as if someone had stepped on a twig. Daniel flinched and jerked around to stare in that direction. He could just make out the silhouette of a tall, thin figure through the gloom. A pair of inhumanly yellow eyes met his own.

Daniel closed his eyes with a whimper. _It's not real, it'll be gone when I open my eyes, it's not real. _He peered out again. The figure was still there, just standing still, watching him, but it was several feet closer now. Daniel screamed and whirled around to flee, dashing desperately through the forest.

Several times the menacing _thing_ appeared off to his left or right, forcing the boy to veer off in the opposite direction. And every time he saw it, it was _closer_. He could make out more features now, particularly a wide smile that bared a set of worryingly sharp teeth.

And suddenly he was out of the woods, gasping for air and with a series of welts on his hands and face where he had stumbled into branches. He knew where he was now. He could see streetlights and his house now. He had made it. He was safe.

"I'd stay out of the forest at night, boy." A voice hissed in his ear. "Next time, you might not run in the right direction…" He felt a long-fingered hand rest upon his shoulder and Daniel _shrieked._ Cold, mocking laughter followed him as he bolted to his house and pounded on the door, screaming for his mom. The door opened and the boy was back into a place of light and warmth.

* * *

"You know, you keep helping out kids like that and people might start to think you actually _like_ them or something." Jack said, swooping out of the sky to land nearby.

"Oh, but Jack, I love children," Pitch replied with a predatory grin, one that showed all of his teeth. "I just can't eat a whole one."

"Hmm. I suppose you do have to watch your figure. They'd have to be terribly fattening, wouldn't they?"

"You have no idea. Though if you're interested, I'm sure we could split the next one I find. I have this great recipe for barbeque sauce…"

Jack snorted and whacked the boogeyman on the arm. "Tempting though it may be, I think that eating kids is something that is frowned upon when you're a Guardian."

"How dreadfully restrictive. Next, you'll be telling me that you're not allowed to jaywalk either."

"I think cannibalism and jaywalking may be a bit far apart on the 'things that are wrong' spectrum."

"Are they? My, my, how complicated morality can be. I'm glad _I _don't have to worry about such a thing," Pitch drawled.

"I don't know about that. I think your allowance of unspeakably evil deeds is running out. If you jaywalk many more times, I might be forced to battle you, simply to stop the world from being consumed by darkness."

"I had no idea the fate of the world was teetering on whether or not I obeyed traffic laws. If the balance is _that_ precarious, maybe I should try making a grab for power again."

"Oh, everyone would be doomed if not for one little thing that you seem to be forgetting…" Jack struck a pose, hands held out from his sides. "Me. I mean, I'm just that amazing. I'd be able to send you packing without breaking a sweat."

"So, the world's only protector is a scrawny teenager who squeals like a little girl when he gets tickled?" Pitch asked with a smirk.

"Hey, that was playing dirty, Pitch."

"I'm the bad guy, remember? Of course I go for the low blows. It's just a shame you grew up in a time period without cameras; just think of what I would have been able to accomplish with a couple of blackmail-worthy childhood photos."

"Oh, that's it, you're going down." Jack said, and launched himself at the boogeyman. Pitch only had an instant to widen his eyes in surprise before he was plowed into and driven to the ground. Then there was an icy arm wrapped under his jaw, putting him in a headlock. Jack was roughly rubbing the knuckles of his free hand over the boogeyman's scalp, mussing his hair beyond repair.

"Blast it, Frost! What are you doing?" Pitch growled, flailing.

"It's a noogie, Pitch. Now, take it like a man!"

"Never!" Pitch cried, dissolving into shadow. Jack fell onto the ground and for a moment everything was silent. Did he scare the boogeyman off? He looked around curiously. No sign of him. Weird. Jack got to his feet, and suddenly he was the one in the headlock as Pitch reappeared and grabbed him. He _really _should have gotten used to Pitch's vanishing acts by now, but he apparently hadn't, judging from the startled cry he made.

"Revenge!" Pitch cackled and noogied Jack mercilessly.

"Ow, hey, stoppit! The noogie was my idea, get your own." Jack protested.

"Make me."

"You asked for it." Jack said, producing a handful of snow and hurling it into Pitch's face.

The boogeyman growled and sputtered, releasing the boy to wipe the ice out of his eyes. "You'll pay for that, Frost!"

"You'll have to catch me first!" Jack laughed as he leapt into the air and sped off.


	24. Of Teeth and Arrows

After Jack had joined up with the Guardians, Tooth had made a resolution to get out in the field at least one night a week, so that she could check up on the children under her care and remind herself of the underlying reason why all the Guardians were selected in the first place. Plus, it was really enjoyable to stretch her wings and see the kids; they were adorable, and their teeth were so pretty.

It was on one of these excursions that she heard the familiar bright laugh of the newest Guardian, followed by a dark, snarled threat. Pitch.

Were they playing? Pitch didn't sound like he was joking around. She flitted off to where she had heard the sound, only to see Pitch standing on the roof of a skyscraper, drawing back his hand in a chillingly familiar archery gesture. He was aiming at Jack's back as he flew off.

"Jack, look out!" she screamed just as Pitch released. The winter spirit faltered at the sound of her voice and the black missile struck him right between the shoulder blades. Jack grunted in surprise as darkness coiled around him and he dropped out of the sky like a stone. Tooth gasped and darted forward to catch him, but by the time she had reached the alleyway that Jack had fallen into, there was no sign of him, not in the air or on the ground.

Within seconds she was in front of Pitch, holding him off the ground by the front of his robes with both hands. "Pitch! What have you done to Jack?!" she demanded.

For a second, the boogeyman looked taken aback. Then an expression of sardonic boredom replaced it. "Jack, if you would be so kind as to call off your attack dog?" he called.

"No. I'm dead; you killed me," came the sulky reply, off the side of the building. Tooth felt relief rush through her.

"Come now, you've already died once, and it still didn't stop you from becoming a thorn in my side. Why would this time be any different?" Pitch replied.

"Jeez, insensitive much?" Jack became visible over the edge of the roof. The black sand that had been launched at him had formed a band around his middle, pinning his arms. The remainder of it had formed a handful of long, spindly legs that had skittered up the side of the building and carried him to where Pitch and Toothiana were. "Also, this thing is really freaky."

"Boogeyman, remember?" Pitch replied. Then he glanced back at Tooth. "Now, if you're finished overreacting..."

"I don't think it was an overreaction considering what happened the last time you fired something like that at one of us," Tooth replied angrily.

Pitch gave her a perplexed look. "Well, you may not have noticed, but Jack's abilities are _ever_ so slightly different from the Sandman's. That trick wouldn't work on him. Or any of the rest of you, for that matter. If it did, don't you think I would have tried to do the lot of you in that way?"

Tooth had to grant him that. She relaxed her grip and let Pitch fall back to the roof. "Let Jack go."

"How am I supposed to get revenge on him that way?"

"I don't care. Now, Pitch."

The boogeyman sighed and snapped his fingers. The sand dissolved, dropping Jack. "Honestly, I don't know why Jack fell in with you lot. You don't seem to have a sense of humor between the four of you."

"I just don't have one as twisted as yours, Pitch."

"Where's the fun in that? Well, not to worry," Pitch smiled and patted the tooth fairy's cheek patronizingly. "If I do decide to start actually harming Guardians again, I assure you, you'll be the _first_ to know."

Tooth's eyes narrowed. "You-"

"Pitch, stop being a jerk," Jack said, getting to his feet.

The boogeyman snorted. "You may as well ask me to stop breathing, Jack."

"Oh, if you could do that too, that'd be great," Jack replied with a grin.

"You're just asking for it now, brat."

"It's not like you can ever catch me, old man." The Guardian taunted, sticking out his tongue.

"We'll see about that!" A Nightmare reared out of the shadows and Pitch leapt onto its back as Jack took off once more. And then darkness was chasing cold across the sky.

Tooth just hovered where she was for a moment, watching the two of them speechlessly. "What the..." She glanced up at the moon, as if asking for answers from it, but unsurprisingly, none were forthcoming. Finally she decided that the two of them were both insane and that she should get back to her teeth collecting. Thinking too hard about this was just going to give her a headache.


	25. Family

It had been a fair amount of time since the Guardians had all met up together, two or three years at least. That wasn't to say that they never interacted, Jack visited them all pretty regularly and the other Guardians did venture out of their domains on occasion. It was just that there always tended to be a holiday coming up, or some minor crisis for one of them that had to be resolved, or just too much work for them to all get together.

So when North had called for them all to come to the workshop, Jack had been thrilled. It had been too long, in his opinion.

He should have known better than to think that it only had to do with companionship and not Guardian business.

Still, he had been surprised to see so many serious faces looking at him when he zipped into the room. "Uh, hey guys," he said, trying to recall if he had sent a blizzard through the Warren recently or done something else to warrant a scolding. Nothing but the usual mischief, far as he knew. "What's the deal?"

North's face broke into a welcoming smile. "Jack, I am glad you made it. The deal is that Pitch is gaining believers, very quickly."

"Oh, yeah, that. Isn't it great? He and I are making a bit of a game of it, actually. I'm in the lead right now, of course," Jack said, grinning.

"Jack, what we mean to say is that Pitch is becoming more powerful," Tooth ventured.

"You're telling me. Last time we tussled, I ended up hanging upside down from a traffic light for a half hour." Jack saw Sandy smile a little at that.

"This is coming down to more than your little tiffs with the boogeyman!" Bunnymund said, not looking amused. "Pitch is dangerous, Jack, and we can't let him keep gaining enough power to become a threat."

Jack's smile slid off of his face. He paused for a moment in surprise. "So, what? You want him to just stop doing what he does?"

"Not stop. Just, maybe, focus on the believers he has already?" Tooth said placatingly.

"Yah, Jack. Is good that Pitch has found a place for himself. He has what he wants now, yes? He is believed in. He can be happy with this," North added.

"Pitch will never agree to it," Jack said, shaking his head.

"We ain't asking his permission," Bunnymund muttered.

"So, what are you going to do, then?" Jack asked, whirling on the Pooka. "Are you going to attack him every time he approaches a new kid? Beat him until he agrees to stop? I cannot believe you. He hasn't done anything wrong!"

"He tried to take over the world, ya dill!"

"Okay, fine. He hasn't done anything wrong _recently_," Jack snapped. "He's never tried to hurt any of you since his defeat! The worst that happened were _pranks_, and you gave as good as you got! Come on, this is Pitch, he's pretty much the definition of all bark and no bite!"

Sandy, Tooth, and North glanced at each other, silently wondering exactly how much bite Pitch would have if it were anyone other than Jack trying even half of the things the boy did with the boogeyman.

"He attacks _you_ constantly!" Bunnymund accused.

"That's how he shows _affection!_" Jack yelled. The Guardians all abruptly fell silent and stared at Jack like he was crazy. Jack took a deep breath to calm himself down. "If Pitch likes you, he'll try to put you in situations where he could easily harm you, but doesn't. It's how he establishes trust or something, I think," Jack tried to explain. The others just looked more confused. "Look, it's not important, alright? I just… If you're going to try this, I'm not going to be any part of it. It's not right." He spun on his heel and rushed out the door, leaving behind the rest of the befuddled Guardians.

* * *

Jack was halfway back to Burgess when the realization of just what he had done struck him like a sack of bricks. He had gone against all the Guardians, for _Pitch_. Suddenly feeling a bit ill, he spiraled down to the nearest town and perched on a telephone wire, crouching and clutching his staff to his chest. What had he done? He had sided with their greatest enemy, against them. What if they threw him out? They were his family. He didn't want to lose them.

Yet, all the same, he couldn't bring himself to go back and agree to their plan. Pitch deserved to try to have as many believers as the rest of them, didn't he? He wasn't a threat, not anymore, right? And other families had arguments all the time, and they stuck together. Maybe, maybe it would work that way for him?

"Jack! Humans coming out of horror movies are such easy targets!" Pitch was suddenly next to him, looking excited. "They jump so high, you have to-" He abruptly stopped. "You're afraid, Jack."

Jack dragged his hand down his face in exasperation. "Not now, Pitch."

"You're… afraid of what the Guardians think of you?" Pitch continued, looking confused. Suddenly his eyes narrowed in anger and his lips curled back from his teeth in a snarl. "Have they mistreated you? I swear I'll-"

"What? No!" Jack leapt to his feet, holding up his hands. The _last_ thing he needed right now was for Pitch to attack the Guardians. "No, nothing like that. It's nothing. Don't worry."

Pitch faltered and frowned. "If you say so."

"I do. Besides, I didn't know you cared." Jack said, managing to pull off a teasing grin.

"If they hold your loyalty so securely, then they'd better well treat you properly. Otherwise it's just insulting that you chose them over me," Pitch replied with a shrug. "Besides, who am I to turn down an opportunity to harass the Guardians?"

"Ah, we come down to the main reason."

"Of course. Wouldn't it be just great if they did something terrible to alienate you and then we annihilated them all together?"

Jack snorted. "Keep dreaming, Pitch."

"See, there's that blasted loyalty again. It's really such a shame…" Pitch said with a dramatic sigh. "Anyway, horror movies. You should be good at sending a chill down people's spine, right? Would you like to come have some fun?"

Jack considered the offer for a second. Tempting though it was, perhaps being spotted in Pitch's company directly after he had just taken the boogeyman's side over the Guardians would be a bad idea. "Some other time."

Pitch shrugged. "Your loss."

* * *

It took Jack a couple more hours of worrying before he decided that he had better try talking to the others again. Letting something like this fester just seemed like a bad idea.

He was surprised, coming into the workshop once more, to see all of the Guardians still there, gathered around a table. He would have thought they would have gone their separate ways. He hadn't planned on facing _all_ of them right away. Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the room and began. "Guys, look, I-"

North held up a hand to stop Jack. "No, Jack. We should apologize."

Jack blinked. "What?"

"You were right about Pitch and Halloween. He's been different since then, kind of. We never thought that he could have a place in the world we protected, and we were wrong." Tooth said. "You knew him better than we did. We should trust your judgment on this."

"Yeah, mate. Weird as it is, you seem to know what you're doing on this count. …Though, if Pitch gives you any trouble, just let me know and I'll send him packing, alright?" Bunnymund added.

Sandy beamed and created an image of the five of them in a group hug, as if to say _'We are family, and we stand together'._

Jack let out a deep sigh of relief. He hadn't been aware of just how much this had weighed on him until it had been lifted. He smiled warmly. "Thanks."

"Is no problem, Jack. Now, we are playing cards, you will join in, yes?" North said, pulling out a chair.

"Of course I will." Jack slid into the seat, feeling a deep sense of contentment in knowing that he belonged.


	26. Loss

Jack dropped into the lair for a visit one day and noticed that the place felt different. Gloomier, if that was possible. The shadows seemed to be longer and darker than ever, and there was no sign of any Hellhounds or Nightmares. Just a dreary, oppressive silence. Was something wrong?

"Pitch?" Jack called. No response. The Guardian frowned and ventured deeper into the caverns. After several minutes of wandering, he finally noticed a dark, hunched figure near one of the many cages of the place. Jack felt something like concern needle him, and hurried over.

The Nightmare King was sitting cross-legged on the floor, looking blankly down at something that he had cradled in his hands. Jack saw something with eight legs, covered in bristly black hair, and instinctively look a step backwards. Then he noticed that the spider was lying motionless on its back, legs curled upwards. "Oh. Pitch, I'm sorry," Jack said, creeping forwards to put a hand on the man's shoulder.

At the touch Pitch seemed to jerk out of whatever reverie he had been in and he snapped his head around to stare at Jack. "For what? You didn't kill her."

The emotionless way that Pitch spoke and the disinterested way he met Jack's gaze seemed to be far more worrying than any amount of anger or sadness that the boogeyman might have expressed. "It's… it's just hard, losing someone important."

"It's in the nature of living things to die. This one was no surprise, nor is it of any particular consequence," Pitch said, turning his face away from Jack and getting to his feet, letting the small, curled body of Sara fall to the floor.

The boogeyman started to wander away, lightly running his fingers over the bars of the cages he passed. Jack followed after him, and Pitch began to speak once more. "It makes no difference. I've watched entire nations vanish, Jack. Saints and sinners, kings and beggars, and so many of them so, so _afraid._ I was there before they were born, walked with them while they lived and feared, and I remain long after they are gone. If there's one thing that I've learned in my existence, it's that no one stays." Pitch's eyes caught one of the few beams of light within his domain and for an instant seemed to flash gold, gleaming like a dusty, long-forgotten locket. "Everyone leaves. And I remain; alone."

"Pitch, just because they're gone, doesn't mean they_ left_. All the people who you've held dear, they're still with you. They're still in your heart."

Pitch laughed bitterly at that. "The Guardians just love to spout clichés, don't they? Even if that was true, you seem to be forgetting that I don't _have_ a heart. Nor do I have people that I care for."

"You know, I really would have thought that an evil mastermind would be a better liar."

"What do you want from me, Frost? Tears? I'm not so weak as to allow the passing of a single, insignificant bug to affect me."

"There's nothing weak about grieving for a lost friend."

"I'll have to disagree with you on that count." Pitch replied tiredly. Then, so quietly that Jack wasn't sure he heard it: "It makes me feels so unbearably weak."

The boogeyman sighed and sat down at the edge of a precipice, staring out into the dark and twisted majesty of his home. After a moment, Jack settled down beside him. Pitch's eyes flicked over to the Guardian, then back to staring out into the darkness. He didn't say anything, and neither did Jack. For a long while they just sat, side by side in silence.


	27. Anniversary

_Author's Note- We've got a new cover image courtesy of the lovely Kvalificatsia (aka Alexia Gilispai). Thank you so much, darling. The link to her deviantart page can be found on my profile._

_Extra note- Sorry guys, I generally try to update once every few days, but with midterms coming up, I'm going to have to let this lapse for a little bit. Expect an update in a week or so, maybe._

* * *

Cindy awoke late one night to see a dark figure standing at the foot of her bed. Biting back a scream, she drew her blankets protectively up to her throat with a shiver. "Who- Who are you?"

"Come now, you already know that," came the calm reply as yellow eyes and crooked teeth gleamed in the dark.

"B-boogeyman…" Cindy whimpered. She wanted to scream and run for her parents, but that gaze had her pinned like a deer in the headlights.

"Clever child." The man strode to the side of her bed as Cindy shrank back. "Calm down, my dear. I only want to ask you a question." He leaned in close, voice dropping to a soft hiss. "Do you believe in _Jack Frost_?"

* * *

Jack was always a bit sad to see spring arrive. It was part of the natural cycle of things, but it still hurt to see his winter wonderland slowly melt away and to watch all the kids prepare for warmer weather once more. He had friends on both hemispheres, though, so he was never alone for long.

Regardless, April had arrived and the time was coming for him to bid Burgess and the northern half of the planet a fond farewell for a few months.

This evening, he was wandering through the woods near Burgess, trudging through piles of slush and thinking. He was fairly preoccupied, so it was a bit of a surprise to hear someone start talking.

"My, my, whatever happened to that perpetual grin of yours? Don't tell me the ever-cheerful Jack Frost is feeling a bit melancholy tonight, of all nights?"

"What's so special about tonight, Pitch?" Jack asked, turning to watch the boogeyman emerge from the shadows and approach him.

"Oh, Jack, you haven't forgotten, have you? What happened on this day, all those years ago?" Pitch asked, circling Jack. "Granted, you previously have somehow managed to lose all recollection of your past, but really. This was fairly momentous."

"It's just early April, I don't see what's so special about it. I mean, Easter sometimes falls on it, but not this yea-" Jack stopped. Easter. When the Guardians and Pitch had their showdown, and when Pitch had been defeated.

"Ah, caught on, have you? Well, better late than never." Pitch flicked his hand and a coil of nightmare sand snaked over Jack's eyes, blindfolding him. "I've prepared a little _surprise_ for you, Jack."

"Pitch, what are you d-" Jack began, reaching up to try to pull the blindfold off. Abruptly his staff was snatched out of his other hand. "Hey!"

"What's the matter, Jack? Not having fun?" Pitch taunted. "And I put so much thought into this, too. I suppose I'll just leave, then." Jack could hear Pitch's voice begin to retreat, and a tapping noise as the boogeyman presumably used Jack's staff like a walking stick.

"Give it back, Pitch!" Jack yelled, swiping his hands over his eyes. The nightmare sand refused to budge.

"Come take it, Frost," Pitch called back.

"What are you playing at?" Jack demanded, reluctantly following after the sound of Pitch walking. Stumbling through utter blackness wasn't his idea of a good time, and following the boogeyman to locations unknown while unarmed and blinded seemed like an eminently bad idea.

"That's for me to know, and you to find out," Pitch replied, and Jack could _hear _the smirk in his voice. Jack felt a little chill creep up his spine. Pitch wasn't still sore about what happened back then, was he? Well, of course he was, that was a silly thought. No one nursed a grudge like the boogeyman. What did he intend to do?

He heard Pitch snicker as Jack kept edging forwards, and gritted his teeth. This jerk was doing this on purpose, just to freak him out. Well, he wasn't about to give Pitch the satisfaction. He straightened and strode forward as confidently as he could, considering he couldn't see where he was going.

"That's the ticket, Frost. Not too much further now…" Jack could hear the murmurs of a number of excited voices up ahead. It was too muffled to make out the words. Before they became clearer, Pitch called out. "Simmer down, you lot! The guest of honor is here. You don't want to ruin the surprise."

What surprise? Jack wondered, still walking forward. He caught a couple of whispers saying his name, and flinched when he felt the occasional touch of what felt like small hands brushing over his hoodie. The sound of Pitch walking abruptly stopped. "Right there, Jack. Now, I think we can all safely say…" The nightmare sand suddenly dropped from Jack's eyes and he took in the sight of dozens of kids gathered around, grinning up at him.

"Happy Anniversary!" the group of them cheered, and Jack abruptly found himself buried under loads of joyful children.

"We'll miss you Jack!"

"You'll come back soon, right?"

Jack laughed in surprise and cheer. "Of course I will, squirts. You'll see, next year I'll give you so many snow days you'll have to stay in late in the summer!"

"Nooo!" the kids squealed, and the whole group dragged Jack to the ground where they tussled and wrestled happily. This went on for a while until they all collapsed, breathless.

"Ahem." Jack looked off to the side of the clearing where Pitch stood, leaning against a tree and idly twirling Jack's staff. "If you've had quite enough of that, don't you think you should go get the second part of Frost's surprise?"

The kids giggled and hurried off somewhere, calling, "Yes, mister boogeyman!"

"What was that all about, Pitch?" Jack asked, propping himself up on his elbows. "Not that I'm complaining."

"Today was the first day you gained a believer, was it not? It seems like it should be an occasion to celebrate."

"Well, yeah, I guess. But I didn't think you'd be alright with it, considering…" Jack trailed off.

Pitch laughed. "What, considering what else happened on that day? Come now, Jack, you don't think I'm so petty as to hold a grudge over such a minor setback, do you?"

_You completely are. _But instead, Jack said, "Minor?"

Pitch grinned. "Of course. I _will_ win one day, and the world will bow to me. It's inevitable." He shrugged and handed Jack his staff back. "But for now, I'm gracious enough to allow fun to have its day of glory."

"How generous of you. My gratitude truly know no bounds, O Mighty Nightmare King," Jack deadpanned.

"And so it should. Especially considering how much effort it took to bring someone here who can't even _see_ me." Pitch replied, eyes flicking to somewhere behind Jack.

"Hi, Jack. Hard to believe it's been ten years, hey?"

"Jamie!" Jack scrambled to his feet and threw himself at the teen, pulling him into a hug reminiscent of that long-off day, though this time it was Jamie who was quite a bit taller. It wasn't as if Jack never met up with his first believer, but as Jamie had gotten older he had gotten busier and had less and less time to frolic in the snow. Having him here to celebrate was something special. "How are you, kiddo?"

"I'm good, Jack. Though I'm a bit confused about who organized all this. The kids tried to explain, but they weren't making much sense."

Jack shook his head. "Just an old friend. Now, I think what this place needs is a snowball fight, don't you?"


	28. Belief

"Pitch, what _are_ you up to?" Jack asked, perching on the windowsill of a darkened bedroom. It was rare for Jack Frost to be in the U.S. this late in May, but the nights were still cool and Pitch was acting strangely, so he had come to find out why.

"I'm doing my job, Jack. What does it look like?" the boogeyman replied from within the room, sprinkling nightmare sand onto the sleeping inhabitant. He grinned as the boy whimpered and clutched the sheets a bit closer. "Why should you care, anyway? He's not your concern. This boy isn't a child any longer; he no longer believes in you or the Guardians. As of yesterday, I believe."

Jack winced a bit at that last statement. He'd had believers grow up and forget him before, but it was still a new and painful experience for him. "That's what I'm talking about, actually. It seems like every time I lose a believer, the kid gets nightmares for a good week afterwards. It's almost like you take a particular interest in them, and I don't get it. I mean, if they were happening beforehand I'd think you were behind them forgetting, but..." Jack trailed off as a thought occurred to him. "Are you... are you getting revenge on them for me?"

Pitch blinked at Jack. "No." he said impassively. "I'm simply taking advantage. It's very convenient that there are people who are foolish enough to abandon you and thus forsake your protection."

Jack groaned and held his face in his hands. This was Pitch being protective again, wasn't it? Why did he suddenly feel like he was holding the chain of a very territorial and aggressive pit bull? "Look, I, uh, appreciate the thought and all. But seriously, don't do this. It's not their fault."

Pitch's eyes flashed. "I'm sorry, you must have mistaken me for someone who you can order around. I shall do whatever I please, Frost. As I said, the child is no longer your concern. He _forgot_ you."

"I'm making him my concern!" Jack snapped. "You can't honestly believe I'd be alright with this!"

"…I shouldn't be surprised." Pitch said, eyes narrowing. "Very well, Jack. You've made your decision." With a snarl, he hurled nightmare sand at the Guardian, catching him off guard and sending him tumbling off the window sill. Jack recovered mid-air and zipped back to the window, ready for a fight. The bedroom was empty but for the sleeper.

* * *

Pitch stalked through his lair, muttering darkly. He'd always known Jack would hold his Guardian duties above all else. He'd taken the blasted oath, fallen in with the rest of the Man in the Moon's band of merry idiots. Pitch had made his peace with that.

But this was different. This boy hadn't been under the Guardian's protection, this boy had _abandoned_ Jack, yet still he was chosen over Pitch.

He really shouldn't have been surprised. Jack had always had a meddlesome streak. Always sticking his nose into things that he had no obligation to help with. He'd sided with the Guardians despite centuries of neglect. He'd decided to protect children before they even knew he existed.

He'd come to the aid of a fallen enemy, when by all rights he should have left Pitch to rot.

No, he wasn't going to think about that now, he was angry with Jack. Who did that boy think he was, ordering the King of Nightmares around like that? He was at no one's beck and call.

He should have stayed there and taught that upstart pup a lesson about tangling with the boogeyman. After he'd snapped the boy's staff again, and maybe a few arms or legs or ribs, even someone as stupendously dense as Jack should be able to get the message. Yes, that's what he should have done. He regretted leaving so hastily now.

The frost spirit was mistaken, anyway. He was simply doing his job, spinning nightmares. It was simply easier to target ones that didn't have Guardians hovering around them, or at least, _shouldn't_. It had nothing to do with the fact that he could _feel_ a spike of Jack's fear, just a little one, every time one of them stopped believing. It didn't matter that the little touch of panic was laced with muffled, but still present, insecurities about being forgotten, abandoned, and left all alone. It wasn't that Pitch knew those feelings himself all too well.

He was just passing by his rusted globe when he noticed one little light flicker and die. Well, it was getting to be summer now, it was no surprise that the winter spirit was losing followers. Pitch smirked. Even if he wasn't targeting nonbelievers before, -and he _wasn't- _he might as well start doing so now. Just to be contrary. Jack Frost couldn't tell him what to do.

* * *

As was to be expected, the Guardian showed up shortly after he had crept out from under the girl's bed. For a moment the two of them eyed each other in an uneasy standoff. Then, without breaking eye contact, Pitch held one hand over the sleeper and started to slowly open his fist, nightmare sand trickling through his loosening fingers. He smiled, a razor thin smirk, _daring_ Jack to just try to stop him. He was itching for a fight.

Pitch could see Jack's knuckles whiten as he tightened his grip around his staff. Then, surprisingly, the Guardian sighed and relaxed, letting his hands fall to his side with his staff dangling lazily from his fingers. "Pitch, don't do this."

"Oh? And why shouldn't I?"

"Tell you what, I'll cut you a deal. You stop fixating on these kids, and I'll help you with some dark deeds."

The boogeyman's grin faltered, and he drew back his hand. "You don't mean...?"

"Yep." Jack gave a crooked smile. "There's a horror show finishing in ten minutes, if we hurry we can catch the lot of them and see if we can't make them jump out of their skin."

"Hmm, yes. That _is_ tempting..." Pitch stroked his chin in thought for a moment, then chuckled. "Well, who am I to turn down an opportunity to drag a Guardian into darkness for a bit? Let's go."


	29. Illness

Jack zipped into the lair one day, humming. Winter was underway, everything was going well, and he was in a good mood. Not too many kids were up and about right now, so he might as well give Pitch a visit and expend some energy on some play fighting or something.

There was a hellhound sitting near the entrance, its chin propped up on a stalagmite. It jerked to attention when it saw Jack, but the Guardian had noticed the hound's expression beforehand. It was, somewhat disturbingly, reminiscent of other dogs he had seen, ones that were waiting anxiously for their owners to come back home. "Hey, boy. So Pitch isn't here, huh?" Jack asked, landing near the beast. "Your master must be out making trouble."

The Hellhound merely eyed him impassively with its ember-bright eyes. The beasties in Pitch's lair tended to give Jack a wide berth or treat him as part of the furniture. Probably a combination of Jack tending to freeze them solid every Halloween and Pitch's 'never touch _my_ property' attitude with Jack. Not that Jack was about to let their chilly reception of him bring him down.

"Well, if he isn't here, this is the perfect opportunity to go exploring, don't you think?" he continued in a conversational tone. "I've always been kinda curious what sorts of things he keeps in here. Oh, don't give me that look." The Hellhound snorted. "I'm going to do it whether you let me or not, the only difference will be whether or not you're a houndsicle. So you might as well come with me, in case I get lost or something."

That said, Jack started to wander amongst the dark and twisted passageways of the place, stopping every so often to draw some frosty graffiti on walls he thought looked particularly dull. The hellhound slinked after him, occasionally voicing growls of disapproval which Jack of course ignored.

The exploration started to get a little dull, though, at least until Jack stumbled into one room in particular and burst out laughing. "Oh, wow. That completely ruins the mood of the place. Though I suppose he has to keep this stuff somewhere, doesn't he?"

* * *

Pitch returned to his lair only to have one of his Hellhounds come bounding up to greet him, whining. "What's the matter?" he asked, reaching out to scratch the hound under its chin. "Is there an intruder?"

The beast leaned appreciatively into the touch before pulling away and starting down a corridor. It looked back at Pitch and whined again.

"Very well, I'm coming." Pitch followed the creature through the labyrinthine passages until he heard a pained groan from within one of the many rooms. "Jack?" Pitch picked up his pace a bit and nightmare sand formed a scythe in his hand. If there was something in his realm that had _dared_ to harm the boy…

He stopped at the sight before him. Jack was lying on a veritable mountain of candy wrappers, arms wrapped around his middle. "Owwww…" he moaned.

Pitch stared, not sure how to deal with this turn of events. On one hand, he was relieved that… No. No, he knew exactly how he felt about this. Angry. Jack had crept into his home, uninvited, wandered around without permission, and gorged himself to the point of sickness on _his_ Halloween candy. He was angry with how idiotic this little brat was.

He strode up to the prone Guardian and glared down at him, stroking the blade of his scythe. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't cut you open and take back my candy."

Jack flinched at the sound of Pitch's voice; he'd apparently been too focused on his gastrointestinal distress to notice the boogeyman before now. "Um… I'm already suffering enough? Also, it'd be really unsanitary." He winced and curled up tighter as another wave of cramps swamped him. "Owwww. Pitch, help."

Pitch crossed his arms, scythe dissolving back into sand. "I'm not sure what you expect me to do. You brought this upon yourself. Besides, I seem to recall promising to just sit back and watch you suffer next time you were in trouble."

"If… ergh… if you just leave me here I'm going to puke on everything you own."

The boogeyman blinked. "Hmm. Well, I can't be having that." He clicked his tongue and a Nightmare came to his side. Pitch grabbed Jack by the back of his hoodie and draped him over the horse's back like a sack of flour, ignoring the Guardian's groans. Then blackness closed over them. Light returned, along with the smell of gingerbread and peppermint, and the sounds of a bustling environment.

North noticed the appearance of the boogeyman and the Nightmare in his workshop immediately. He came over with one hand on his sabre hilt, watching warily. "Pitch. What do you want?

"Why, hello there North. I'd say that it was nice to see you again, but I'm trying to cut back on the lying this year. You can relax, I'm not here to make trouble this time. I'm just here to give this thing back to you." He picked Jack off of the Nightmare and pushed him at North. "He's your problem now."

North grabbed the swaying boy before he toppled over, looking concerned. "Pitch, did you poison him?" he demanded.

Pitch rolled his eyes. "I know it's not your forte, but do _try_ to think for a bit. Why would I bring him to _you_ if he was poisoned? Believe me, North, if I was responsible for his condition, I'd only bring him back if he had a terrible disease, something nasty and viral and…" He grinned widely when Jack shuddered and heaved a wave of multi-colored vomit all over North's boots. "…contagious. Have fun!" Pitch cackled and vanished.


	30. Post Show

_Author's Note- Yeah, this chapter probably should have gone before the previous one, but whatever. I wanted to write Jack making himself sick on candy first._

* * *

The sandman tended to not pay very much attention to adults; none of the Guardians did. They existed to protect and safeguard children. Once the fledglings had safely grown up, they'd succeeded, their work was done. Well, Tooth did still send out happy memories when they were needed, but adults needed to learn to stand on their own, forge their own hopes and dreams and wonder.

So it took Sandy a little while longer than it perhaps should have to notice that Pitch seemed to be causing trouble for a group of adults in the town he was floating above. …Along with Jack?

Apparently so, judging from the amount of whooping and laughter going on outside of an old movie theatre. The two of them were flitting from person to person as the jumpy-looking adults filtered out the doors and started to head home, down sidewalks or pathways or to their parked cars.

Pitch slinked behind them, whispering barely audible anxieties into their ears as dark and sinister shadows seemed to lurk just out of the corner of their eyes and in every dimly lit corner. Streetlights flickered and went out as people walked beneath them, and ominous rustling and creaking sounds echoed from places just large enough to potentially hide some kind of skulking threat.

Jack, laughing, zipped from person to person, running his staff down peoples' backs, sending shivers down their spines and raising goosebumps as they yelped or hugged themselves against this sudden and preternatural chill. The wind made eerie howling and moaning noises as it carried Jack through the murky night and to his next victims. Chilling designs in frost appeared on car windows, monsters and shadows and faces.

One young couple was making their way down a pathway and happened to have the misfortune to gain the attention of both of the immortals. Sandy watched, unnoticed, as Jack and Pitch smirked at each other and crept up on the couple.

The woman was clinging to the man's arm, looking pale and nervous. The man smiled and squeezed her shoulder comfortingly. "Don't be scared, sweetie. It was only a movie. Besides, I'm here to protect you…"

That was as far as he got before they were swooped down upon. All the streetlights in a twenty-foot radius suddenly went dark as Jack created a patch of ice right where the woman stepped next. She let out an involuntary yelp as her foot went out from under her and she flailed to keep her balance. The man screamed (in a rather high-pitched tone, too) and bolted, leaving his partner behind.

The lights came back on, shining down on a severely unimpressed-looking woman with folded arms. "Here to protect me, huh?!" she hollered at the fleeing figure.

Pitch and Jack both collapsed against a wall, shaking with laughter. Both of them were positively beaming with mischievous glee. It was actually kind of disturbing to see how much of Pitch was reflected in Jack, and how much of Jack's influence he could see on Pitch. At the moment, the two of them were achingly similar.

Sandy was no stranger to feeling a certain kinship with the boogeyman. The two of them were the oldest of the immortals, both of them with overlapping powers and domains. Sandy didn't like the way that his counterpart behaved most of the time, and he had no doubt that the feeling was mutual, but he did understand the reasons why Pitch acted the way he did, even if he disagreed.

The winter Guardian, though, went about it entirely differently. Jack seemed capable of not only sympathizing with the boogeyman, but of bringing out a side of Pitch no one seemed to know existed. Not good, exactly, but not evil either. Fun was a very powerful force, it seemed.

Pitch was the first one to notice their audience. When he laid eyes on the golden man, his easy smile immediately vanished, replaced with wariness. He shifted, moving so that Jack was in between the sandman and him. "Sanderson. Don't you have better things to do than spy on people?" he asked coldly.

Jack perked up. "Hey there, Sandy!" he greeted the man with a cheery grin. "Sorry, didn't notice you there. I'd invite you to join us-" It was probably a good thing that Jack couldn't see Pitch's expression at that idea. "-but I think all the moviegoers have cleared out by now."

Sandy smiled and flapped a hand dismissively. No need to worry. He didn't think he would be very good at the sort of things these two were getting up to anyway.

"Did you see the way that some of them jumped? It was great!" Jack laughed. "I really do need to get a camera someday."

Sandy nodded, then gestured at them both, ignoring the way Pitch flinched, just a little, and created some numbers counting up in dreamsand, and a question mark.

"What? Oh, naw, we haven't done this often. Don't worry, I'm not going to trade snowballs for scaring people. Pitch wouldn't appreciate the competition, would you?" Jack asked, turning to look at Pitch.

"This is hardly all I get up to, Frost. You wouldn't even be able to come close to being half as menacing as I am." Pitch replied, not taking his eyes off of Sandy.

"Oh, is that a challenge, now?"

"It's a fact. Now, I have other things to attend to tonight. I'll leave you to… chat with your friend."

"Hey, remember, don't-" Jack began, but was hurriedly cut off.

"Yes, we came to an agreement on that count, I remember. Don't you trust me, Jack?" Pitch asked, giving one cheshire-like smile before vanishing into the shadows.

Jack sighed and shook his head, then turned his attention back to Sandy. "That guy, huh? Anyway, how are you, Sandy? What sort of dreams have you cooked up tonight?"


	31. Valentine's

_Author's Note- Well, it's about a week late, but people requested it, so here you go. I regret nothing!_

* * *

Pitch still wasn't sure what his overall opinion on Valentine's Day was. On one hand, the staggering amount of insipid declarations of love and affection were utterly sickening, Cupid was a completely insufferable prat, and holidays in general just irked him beyond belief. On the other hand, there was no better day to bask in the anxieties and fears of those without partners on this auspicious day. Oh, the fear of rejection, of dying alone… Not quite as exhilarating as good old mortal fear, granted, but it still had its charms, and it _was_ gloriously persistent.

Unfortunately, the boogeyman had little to do with those fears directly, and the sheer amount of pink and red was an affront to his senses, so Pitch tended to spend the day in his lair, brooding. No, he decided, he wasn't fond of Valentine's Day, small silver lining aside. Definitely something that he would abolish, when he had the chance.

"Hey, Pitch?" Jack's voice rang out through the lair. The boy had time to bother him in the middle of February? Usually he was pretty busy. Pitch went to go see what this was about.

Jack was hovering near the entrance, looking flustered. There was a dusting of frost covering his cheeks, odd. "Pitch, I, uh, I'm sorry, but I can't say I feel the same way," he stammered, holding his staff across his chest defensively.

Pitch stared at him. "…The same way about what?"

"Uh… This?" He held up a bouquet of jet-black roses, tied with a velvet ribbon. There was a card nestled among them.

"Give me that." Pitch snatched the flowers out of Jack's hand and pulled out the card, high-grade black stationary with gold-embossed lettering. He scanned it. "…My light in the darkness? Is that supposed to be a term of endearment? I _hate_ light."

"So… they aren't from you?" Relief was evident in Jack's voice.

Pitch snorted. "I like to think that I have better tastes than that, Jack. You've been had. Where did you get these from, anyway?"

"They were on my lake."

"And you jumped to conclusions. My, something about this holiday just makes twits of everyone, doesn't it?" Pitch shrugged and flicked the card back at Jack. "Well, I suppose it _is_ signed… Not my writing, though. Actually, it looks quite similar to a certain Guardian… He's quite an accomplished gardener, I believe. Leaves flowers everywhere, doesn't he?"

Jack's eyes narrowed, and he crumpled the card in his hand. "Bunnymund. Payback for the pranks from before, I guess. Oh, he is going to get it!" He looked at Pitch. "We will never speak of this again, agreed?"

Pitch smirked. "Of course. I wouldn't _dream_ of using this against you, Jack."

Jack groaned and dragged his hand down his face. "…I'll deal with that when it happens. Right now I have a rabbit to kill."

"Have fun."


	32. Proposal

_Author's Note- ...Okay, maybe I regret this one a little. It is very silly. Direct continuation of the previous chapter._

* * *

Jack had just left when Pitch got a wonderful, awful idea. Jack wouldn't really kill the Easter Bunny, sadly. And Bunnymund was of course expecting anger and embarrassment, and why should that overgrown hare get anything _he_ wanted? No, it would be so much better to turn the tables on him…

Besides, it was Valentine's Day. He should really act in the spirit of the holiday. Pitch smiled and slipped off into the shadows.

* * *

Jack landed near one of the entry tunnels to the Warren, frost sparking in the air around him. "Bunnymund!" He yelled. "Get your cotton tail up here right now!"

The Easter Bunny hopped out of the hole, smirking. "What'sa matter, mate? Was Valentine's a bit too eventful for you this year?"

"Look here, you furry little-" Jack started into his rant.

"We really can't thank you enough," Pitch cut in, materializing directly behind Jack. The two Guardians jumped at the sudden appearance of the boogeyman. "I mean, who would have thought the two of us were just too shy to make the first move?" he purred, lightly tracing a finger down Jack's arm. Jack pulled away from the touch, giving Pitch a questioning look, but the boogeyman was too occupied watching the Easter Bunny's reaction.

The look of abject horror on Bunnymund's face was just too delicious; Pitch almost lost the battle to hold in his laughter at the sight of it. It was difficult, but he managed to keep his beatific smile steady.

"Pitch, what're you-" Jack began.

"Oh, you aren't being bashful now, are you, my snowflake?" Pitch asked, cocking his head to one side and grinning widely at the winter spirit. "I mean, after that last meeting in my lair, I don't think either of us can deny the connection any more."

Pitch could see realization dawn on Jack as a grin to match his own spread over the boy's face. "I suppose you're right, my… dark angel," he said. Pitch had to bite back another wave of laughter. Jack's pet names could use some work.

Bunnymund finally snapped out of the shock that had frozen him. "What? You… you're not serious, are ya?"

"Oh, but we're very serious. And we have you to thank for bringing us together in such a romantic way," Pitch looked sidelong at the rabbit as he produced the black bouquet and toyed with the ribbon. "It was terribly sweet of you. Surely it means you approve of the two of us, right?"

Bunnymund growled. "Not blooming likely, ya whacker. It was a joke! Don't you dare touch Jack!"

"Jeez, Bunny, when did you become my dad?" Jack asked, leaning on his staff.

"Jack, mate, this can't be right. Cupid musta got you with a stray arrow or something, you gotta stop!" Bunnymund pleaded.

Pitch sneered at the Easter Bunny. "Oh, is this making you uncomfortable? I intend to do more than touch, rabbit." He got down on one knee, facing Jack with his back to Bunnymund. "Jack, will you…" Taking a page out of the sandman's book, he used his nightmare sand to form the rest of the message: _pummel Bunnymund with snowballs?_

Jack laughed. "I'd like nothing better."

"Jack, no!" Bunnymund cried. His terror-struck expression was wiped off his face by a snowball smacking him right between the eyes. A flurry of them followed immediately afterwards, sending him reeling backwards, right back into the tunnel. He fell down it with a yelp.

"Next time, you might want to pick a prank that doesn't have the potential to backfire so spectacularly," Pitch called down the tunnel with a cackle. "Oh, but don't worry, I have no interest in whisking Jack away! Consider this payback for putting _my_ name on that ridiculous bouquet!"

"You son of a... Rack off!" Bunnymund yelled back.

Jack clutched his sides, shaking. "That was great. Though…" He wiped tears of laughter out of his eyes. "Explaining this to the other Guardians is bound to be a little awkward."

"Psh, I doubt the rabbit will be eager to share this little misadventure with the others anytime soon. You should be fine."


	33. Mistake

_Author's Note- Uh-oh. I'm afraid I used up all of my silly in the previous chapter. This one is, uh, pretty dark. Sorry about that._

_Also, I'm accepting writing prompts. No guarantees that I'll use all the ideas I'm given, but if one strikes my fancy, I'll write up something from it._

* * *

A wave of fear alerted him to the presence of someone outside of the entrance to his lair. Someone frantic with worry. Jack.

Pitch waited a moment, expecting the Guardian to come barreling into his home as was usual. He didn't. Just what was Jack up to now? Pitch decided that he didn't have the patience to just wait for Jack to decide to come in. He'd go find out for himself what brought the winter spirit this time. He melted into a shadow and flowed over stairways and up walls until he finally emerged out from under the bedframe.

Jack was pacing back and forth nearby. He had his hood drawn up over his head, was clutching his staff to his chest, and not a hint of a smile could be seen on his face. Pitch reformed himself into his tangible body, leaning against the bedframe. "Is something the matter, Jack?" he asked.

The Guardian flinched, turning to look at the boogeyman with frantic eyes. "Pitch, I just… I don't know what to do."

"You're going to have to elaborate, I'm afraid. I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about."

Jack hunched closer around his staff, dropping his gaze to the ground. "There was an accident," he whispered. "A kid… I was playing with a group of them, we were going sledding. One of them wandered off, went down a different slope. I was distracted, I wasn't watching closely enough..." Jack closed his eyes. "She… she hit a tree. It's bad, real bad. They don't know if she's going to wake up."

Pitch frowned. "I… see. That _is_ very unfortunate. But surely one of the Guardians would be better suited to help you with this?"

"No! No, I can't tell them," Jack said, snapping his eyes back up to meet Pitch's. "I hurt a kid, Pitch. She'd never have been in that situation if not for me. The Guardians, they'll…"

Jack didn't finish the thought, but he didn't need to. Pitch could read the fear in Jack's heart like an open book. _They'll know I'm not fit to be a Guardian. That I'm nothing more than a burden, a danger. I only make a mess wherever I go and they're going to throw me out. I _deserve_ to be thrown out._

Pitch sighed. "You're being an idiot."

Jack flinched like Pitch had struck him. "I shouldn't have come. Sorry." The wind lifted him off the ground and he started to fly off, only to have a coil of nightmare sand wrap around his ankle and drag him firmly back to the ground.

"Just sit still and listen for once in your miserable existence," Pitch said sharply. "Did you personally push this girl down the hill in the knowledge she would be harmed?"

"No! I'd never do anything like that! Now let me go!" Jack snapped, hurling a bolt of ice at Pitch.

The boogeyman sidestepped out of the way, expression calm and focused. "Then you're not responsible for her being hurt."

"I'm supposed to protect the kids! I failed!" Jack yelled, snow and ice forming and whirling around him like a private blizzard.

Pitch was unfazed. "I assure you, Jack, there are _hundreds_ of children and adults alike who have suffered the same fate as your little one. I'd be willing to bet in the next town over there's dozens of children in the hospital due to accidents. Are you responsible for all those injuries as well? What's the difference between not helping them, whether they're one hundred feet or one hundred miles away? Aren't they all deserving of your protection? Shouldn't you have been watching over them, too?" Pitch punctuated each question by taking a step closer to Jack, until he was looming over the Guardian. "While we speak, somewhere in the world a tragedy is befalling a child. Why aren't you out there stopping it personally?"

Jack was hugging his staff to his chest again, trembling, his anger gone. The ice fell to the ground. "I… I can't stop it all. I can't protect everyone."

"That's right. You can't. You can't just wave that staff of yours and magically make everything that's bad in the world go away. No one can. ...But that doesn't mean you don't make a difference." Pitch smiled wryly. "Believe me, I know all about how effective you are at being a Guardian. I'd be ruling this world if not for you, remember?"

"But I-"

Pitch cut him off. "No. One of the hardest lessons to learn is to accept your limitations, Jack. Mistakes get made, and the only thing you can do about that is _learn_ from them. Mortals get hurt all the time. Some recover, some die. It's the way the world is, and you can't change that. What you _can_ do is make life brighter for those you interact with. Give them fun times to offset the bad ones. And sometimes, Jack, that makes all the difference in the world."

Jack took a shuddering breath and stood a little straighter. "I suppose you're right. Thanks, Pitch."

"Thanks? For what?" Pitch asked. He waved a hand and the nightmare sand tethering Jack to the ground vanished. "I'm simply stating something you should have picked up already in your three-hundred years of life, if you weren't an idiot. Now, a proper Guardian should be back there, helping out the kids who are worried about their friend. Get going, I'm sick of your face."

"Charming as always, Pitch." Jack retorted with a small, weak smile, the first one he had cracked since he arrived. "But I do mean it. Thanks." The wind lifted him up again and this time he was unhindered as he zipped back over the treetops.


	34. Present

"Pitch, hey, I got you something." Jack said, grinning and holding up a giftwrapped package.

The boogeyman eyed both Jack and the gift suspiciously. "Why?"

"Do I need a reason? I thought you might like it, is all." Jack replied cheerily.

That grin of Jack's was far too wide for there not to be some kind of catch to this. Pitch glowered at the frost spirit. "I swear, Jack, if this is going to be a repeat of the peanut brittle incident, I will turn you inside out."

Jack chuckled. "I still can't believe you feel for that one, Pitch. One of the oldest pranks in the book, short of a whoopee cushion." He paused at that last sentence and a pensive look crossed his face.

"Don't even _think_ about it, Frost," Pitch growled darkly.

"Aw, you're such a terrible sport," Jack said with a sigh. He straightened up and placed one hand over his heart. "But I solemnly swear that this present will not explode, make strange noises, spray you with water, or anything of that sort. C'mon."

"You're not going to leave me alone until I do what you want, are you?"

"Of course not. Jack Frost is no quitter." Jack replied with a proud grin.

Pitch muttered an invective under his breath and snatched the gift out of Jack's hand. In one fluid movement he tore off the wrapping and looked over the contents. "…It's a book." He flipped it over and scanned the summary on the back. "A romance novel. Is this the great prank, Jack? Getting me a story that I clearly have no interest in? I'm afraid you're getting rusty."

"What, you haven't heard of it before? It's pretty famous."

"I can hardly be expected to keep up with whatever insipid dreck humans find entertaining at the moment."

"C'mon, it's got vampires in it! In a romance story!"

"And? Mortals have been romanticizing vampires for _decades_, Jack. Sure, it's infuriating that they've turned something once terrifying into another outlet for titillation, but that's hardly a new development. If you wanted to see me angry about that, you should have talked to me a half century ago."

"Did I mention that they _sparkle_?"

Pitch rolled his eyes. "Jack, there are myths about vampires that are identifiable because of their backwards feet. Others have necks that can stretch out meters long, or consist of nothing more than a floating head and a bunch of trailing internal organs. There's even one bloodsucker that is a human head with bird's talons that flies around using its massive ears like wings. And that's not to mention the vampire squash and pumpkins of the Balkans. Do you really think that _sparkling_ is the most ridiculous trait that can be applied to vampires?"

"Are you serious?" Jack asked incredulously.

"Sadly, yes. Human imagination is, on the whole, very fertile. It produces both wonderful terrors and annoying absurdities. I prefer to focus on and delight in the former. It's too much trouble to be irritated by the latter." He shrugged and tossed the book over his shoulder, where it plummeted off a precipice and was swallowed up by darkness. Jack didn't hear it hit the bottom.

"Huh, I never took you for an optimist. Well, optimistic for you, at least."

"Please, do you really think a pessimist would have the ambition to try to overthrow the Guardians and drown the world in darkness?" Pitch asked with a grin. "I'm always certain that my plans will pan out eventually, Jack. The belief in a bleaker future is what kept me from giving up after all those… setbacks." Pitch's expression became more distant, guarded.

The boogeyman's words reminded Jack of his own time being abandoned, invisible, forgotten. How he'd had to fight off despair and the aching fear that no one would ever acknowledge him. How many centuries had Pitch struggled with that same pain? Jack shrugged off those dark thoughts. Those days were in the past for him… and for Pitch, too. The Guardian smiled cheekily at the boogeyman. "That's almost inspirational. Never give up, never surrender. You know, aside from the whole 'evil being of darkness taking over the world' thing. I don't know if that'd make for a very good underdog film."

Pitch smirked. "What, only the good guys are supposed to follow their dreams, now? What is it that they're telling children these days? 'You can accomplish anything you put your mind to'? Maybe there should be a disclaimer on that. 'But only accomplish it if it's something that is deemed to be acceptable by the general public.'"

"That's not very catchy."

"Well, then you're on your own for coming up with villain-discouraging motivational posters." Pitch replied with a shrug.

* * *

_Author's Note- The silly has returned, yay! Oh and yes, all the vampires mentioned above are genuine myths. The vampiric pumpkins don't have any special name, but the others, in order of their mention, are: the Pichal Peri, the Rokurokubi, the Penanggalan, and the Chonchon._


	35. Cage

A flash of colour caught Jack's eye when he came to visit the boogeyman's lair one day. Reds and blues and yellows, all so out of place in this dim, monochromatic realm. There, in one of the largest cages, a pile of what looked like frayed and dust-covered rags. What was that doing there? Had Pitch picked up another pet? What sort of thing had piqued his interest this time, and why, Jack wondered with a shudder, would it need such a large living space?

He went closer to the cage cautiously. When he spotted a small hand peeking out from under the quilts he felt the pit of his stomach drop and a chill creep down his spine. Kids. There were kids in the cage. At least a dozen of them, scratched and bruised and sprawled out senseless on the floor of the structure. Jack was at the bars in an instant.

"Don't worry, don't worry, it's okay. I'm going to get you out," he said reassuringly, scrambling for the lock. The kids didn't so much as twitch and a whole new horror froze Jack for a moment as he stared desperately at the limp children. "Hey, hey, wake up," he pleaded. Still no response, but one child sighed and drew the blankets tighter around herself. _Just asleep, just asleep, thank the Moon._ Jack thought with relief.

"They can't hear you, Jack."

"Pitch!" Jack whirled, leveling his staff at the boogeyman, standing protectively between the cage and where Pitch had emerged from. "Why are these kids in a cage?!"

"Because when they were free to wander about one of them almost fell off of a cliff," Pitch answered, seemingly unperturbed by Jack's aggression.

"I'm not joking around about this, Pitch. You send these kids back home right now," Jack growled dangerously.

"I can't."

"What do you mean, you can't?!"

"They don't _have _a home to go back to," Pitch replied acidly, narrowing his eyes.

"What have you done, Pitch?" Jack asked, voice low.

The boogeyman looked at him disdainfully. "You seem to have already made up your mind on that count, Jack. Shall I tell you what you want to hear, then? That I've gone back to my old ways? That I've dragged children into my domain, abused them, and done something to destroy their homes? If that's what you believe, I'd be more than happy to give you that fight you seem to be itching for, Frost," he hissed, and Jack could see the glowing eyes of Nightmares and Hellhounds blink into existence from the shadows behind Pitch.

Jack gritted his teeth and tightened his grip on the staff, instincts screaming at him to blast the boogeyman away, drive him back to the shadows, and take the kids back home. The look on Pitch's face made him hesitate. He'd gotten pretty good at reading Pitch over the years, and right now the Nightmare King was angry, yes, but more than that he was _insulted_. Why? Jack reined in his anger. "If that's not what happened, then tell me what did. Explain for once instead of dancing around the subject like always. And it had better be good," he growled, shifting into a slightly less aggressive stance.

Pitch rolled his eyes. "It's very far from good, Jack. There was an earthquake. A little country, near the equator, not exactly your jurisdiction. Most of the buildings collapsed. Those-" he gestured at the cage behind Jack "-were trapped under the rubble, and they were so, so frightened. It seemed like such a shame to just leave such powerful sources of fear to be smothered under brick and mortar. So I yanked them out."

Jack raised an eyebrow.

Pitch scowled in response. "Yes, I'm well aware that I don't normally do such a thing. I assure you, this reminded me why I don't. Children are terrible, wretched things, nothing but incessant babbling and crying and demands. If it were only terrified screaming, that would be different, but no. Not to mention that these ones kept trying to run off and escape and nearly broke their scrawny little necks. So I put them in the cage for safekeeping and put them to sleep to make them be quiet." He rubbed his temples. "I still have a splitting headache from the whole thing."

"…That's a completely unbelievable story," Jack said, crossing his arms.

"Then wouldn't I have come up with a better lie?" Pitch asked, examining his nails nonchalantly. "And I really couldn't care less whether you believe me or not. Though you might notice that I haven't set my Nightmares on the little ones sleeping so _vulnerably_ in my realm."

Jack frowned and glanced over his shoulder at the kids again. No dreamsand danced over their heads, but no nightmare sand either. "Why not?"

Pitch folded his arms. "I don't want them to wake up and cause a ruckus again. And even I'm not so heartless as to take children that have gone through something very traumatic and consign them to inescapable nightmares." He glared at Jack as if daring him to make a comment on this. "Besides, they'll have more than enough of them later on in life."

"So what are you going to do with them, then?"

Pitch shrugged. "I have no intention of keeping these terrible, noisy brats here any longer than necessary. With luck, the relief efforts will reach the area soon enough. I'll dump the children on them then."

"How caring of you. I'll just stick around and watch over them for now, if it's all the same to you." Jack said, backflipping to perch on the top of the cage.

"Still don't trust me, Frost? You wound me," Pitch drawled. "I suppose I can expect nothing less from a Guardian, though. Even if these children have never heard of you. Do what you will." He faded back into the shadows with a curt nod.


	36. Tremor

_Author's Note- Okay, maybe this chapter was unnecessary, but danggit, I wanted to write Pitch being terrible with kids._

* * *

He hadn't intended to interfere, he really hadn't. The screams and the panic and the terror had drawn him to the site of the earthquake like a moth to a flame, but he'd only meant for himself to be an observer, truly.

Well, maybe a little more than an observer. He just couldn't help himself. The fear was too sweet by far. It was far too tempting to find a little one, trapped in darkness and rubble and dust and terror, and play with him a bit.

This particular one was wedged underneath a desk, fallen roofbeams and brick blocking him in and cradling him in a cramped and lightless space barely large enough for him to be curled in a ball around himself. The fear in the air broadcasted the child's thoughts loud and clear.

_No, no, no, please no. _The boy was shaking so hard. _This can't be real, it's gotta be some kind of nightmare. Dark, dark it's so dark. I can't see. My arm hurts. I don't want to die here. I want my mom and dad. I don't want to die._

Then there was a gleam of something like light in the space, and the boy abruptly wishes there wasn't. Eyes, bright yellow eyes, predator eyes, watching him. A scream tore its way out of the child's already raw and aching throat, and he tried to shrink away.

Oh, yes, the boy could see him. Pitch smiled, baring sharp teeth as the child buried his face in his arms with a whimper. Fearing the boogeyman even in the midst of everything else that was happening, how cute. Pitch loved children.

Then abruptly there was an aftershock, and a terrible creaking noise, and a rush of mortal terror from the small child. What left of the building that had remained standing had been unbalanced by the tremor, and it was coming down.

A load of brick and wood fell onto the boy's shelter with a gunshot-sharp _BANG_ and the table above the child's head gave way with a crack. The rubble above would pour in and crush the small, fragile mortal beneath and that would be the end of it.

No, Pitch couldn't, wouldn't allow the little light to be snuffed out. He wasn't finished tormenting the child! Shadow and nightmare sand formed a net over the boy's head as quickly as thought, bringing the debris to an abrupt halt inches above the boy's skull.

There, that would hold, Pitch thought with satisfaction.

…But the fear was dwindling still. Why? Was the child so relieved to still be alive? Surely not. The rattling, choked gasp from the boy let him catch on. Oh, right, air. The child was asphyxiating now, having used up all the oxygen in the cramped space. How inconsiderate of the boy to start dying even after Pitch had acted to preserve his life. This simply wouldn't do.

Nightmare sand wrapped around the small form, dragging him into the shadows. Pitch had to act quickly, and his lair was the place he knew best. It would be easy enough to frighten the boy there. Once he was satisfied, he might even return the child to his proper keepers. Yes, he was in a good mood today. He could be benevolent.

Actually, there were a fair number of little believers all around, weren't there? It would be such a shame to lose them. He'd take them for safekeeping.

And if there were a few hours where rescue workers feared and worried and frantically searched for children that were nowhere to be found, well, then, all the better. Pitch chuckled and slipped off to the shadows, off to collect his charges.

* * *

It took him one hour to completely and utterly regret his decision.

It had been literal ages since he'd dragged any children down to his domain, and now he was remembering why. The little brats weren't only capable of sweet, lovely screams, oh no. There was sobbing and whining and complaining and questions and demands and not all of them at once would listen to him, not even when he put on his scarier faces. And it only took one of them to laugh or be infuriatingly defiant and then the lot of them were yanked out from under his sway. Just like before…

Not to mention that he'd somehow neglected to notice that one of them had brought her security blanket along and constantly used it to ward him off and stymie him. Oh, how he _hated _those stupid rules he was bound by. The boogeyman, King of Nightmares, balked by simply diving under the covers.

The last straw was when they started scattering off into the other parts of his lair. Rounding them all up again and again was an exercise in aggravation and he didn't even want to _think_ of what would happen if they had managed to find where he kept the Halloween candy.

When the little boy fell off one of the higher causeways of his lair, he had been honestly tempted to just let him. Maybe the rest of them would actually _listen _then.

But no, the mess would be terrible to clean up and Jack would probably disapprove.

"THAT. IS. IT!" Pitch shrieked. A coil of nightmare sand caught the child before he hit the ground below and shadowy hands grabbed the ankles of rest of them and dragged the whole lot of them in front of Pitch. "I have had it!" he snarled. "I should have left you all to DIE! Since that's no longer on the table, we'll have to do the next best thing." He flung them into a cage and dumped nightmare sand on top of them, knocking them out cold. He slammed the door shut and reined in the Nightmares. The last thing he wanted was the kids being startled out of sleep. They could stay dreamless for now, all he wanted was some blessed quiet.

He needed to take some time to regain his composure and nurse the migraine this ordeal had caused. Have a peaceful moment with some freshly brewed tea, yes. That was just what he needed.

He was just finishing curling up in one of the deepest and darkest crevices of his lair when a Nightmare came to let him know Jack had come in. Pitch threw his head back and groaned in exasperation. "Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me."

* * *

After they had worked out the misunderstanding, Pitch had retreated back to his tea.

He really should have known better than to expect Jack to just sit still. Honestly, he was as bad as the rest of them.

It took about 40 minutes of Jack trying to play the stoic and serious Guardian before he finally broke. "Piiiiitch. I'm bored."

"No one is forcing you to stay, Frost," Pitch growled.

"But I can't leave the kids alone in your clutches."

"Then shut your gob. You're the one who took the blasted oath, I don't see why I should have to suffer for it."

"Hey, I know, why don't you introduce these kids to me? I bet that would be fun. " Jack said.

Pitch glared at the Guardian. "That would involve them having to be conscious."

"C'mon, you can't just keep them all in a coma until they can go back."

"I see no reason why that is not a completely reasonable and logical thing to do. They're hellions."

"I'm sure they aren't that bad. You're just terrible with children," Jack said, shaking his head.

"Is insulting others the usual way you try to convince them to do something you want?"

"Don't be like that. I'm really sorry, okay? I promise I'll keep them under control. Please?"

Pitch rolled his eyes, but got up to go to the cage. He snapped his fingers and the children blinked and yawned into bleary-eyed wakefulness. "Alright, listen up. If it was up to me, I'd just boil and eat the lot of you, but you're lucky enough to have a Guardian on your side. Santa Claus has a friend called Jack Frost, and he's here to watch over you like the meddlesome prat he is." Pitch glared over at Jack. "Do something."

A quick wave of his staff had white, fluffy snowflakes falling all around the children, who watched with wide-eyed wonder. They'd never seen anything like this before. Jack beamed.

"Right. They're your problem now." Pitch yanked open the door grumpily. "Keep up your end of the bargain, Frost." He slinked back into the shadows, trying to ignore the irritatingly bright peals of laughter that followed on the heels of Jack's latest tricks. Happiness and joy, ugh. It made his skin itch.

He'd come back later to drag the kids back to their harsh reality. For now, he had to go lock down the Halloween candy.


	37. Intercession

A whistling noise and the sound of a rapidly-nearing scream was barely warning enough for Jack to jerk out of the way of something that plummeted abruptly out of the sky and slammed into the ground with a loud THUD. He cautiously took a step forward to examine the large black shape at his feet.

Pitch was sprawled on his back in the snow, eyes closed, groaning. He looked like a complete mess, long limbs splayed out in all directions and his hair and robes in shambles.

"Pitch?" Jack said, wondering what had gotten the boogeyman in this state.

Yellow eyes snapped open. "Ja-" he was barely able to get a syllable out before a dreamsand whip wrapped around his ankle and yanked him forward. "Ah! No!" Pitch scrambled at the ground frantically, trying to find something to grab onto. Nothing but snow met his fingertips and he was flung across the clearing, crashing heavily into the trunk of a large and sturdy oak tree. He slid to the ground with a whimper. Pitch tried to get his motley arrangement of limbs into some semblance of working order again, but wasn't fast enough. The sandman floated into view, a glower on his face, and flicked another whip at the boogeyman.

Pitch flinched, throwing up his arms to try to shield himself, but the blow never landed, because Jack leapt in between the two of them and thrust his staff in the way, catching the whip before it could reach the boogeyman.

There was a long moment of stunned silence after that, with Pitch and Sandy both staring at Jack in shock. Even Jack looked surprised, staring at his outstretched arm and staff in disbelief, as if asking them how they could betray him like this. Finally he seemed to pull himself together and sighed. "I thought we were past this, guys. Pitch, what did you do?"

Pitch growled and spat. "Since when do the Guardians need a reason to attack me?"

"Since whe- Do you mean to say that- I don't even-" Jack sputtered, clapping a hand to his forehead. "Are you seriously playing the victim here, Pitch? Did you pay attention to what happened the last few centuries at ALL?! You pretty much did nothing _but_ give them reasons to attack you!"

"So they claim. I don't see anything wrong with what I did," Pitch said, gathering himself into a more dignified position and straightening his robes.

"Of course you don't," Jack groaned exasperatedly. "I don't know why I asked. Sandy, what happened?"

Sandy reeled his whip in and created an image of a dolphin above his head, then had the creature shudder and twist into the form of a horse. It didn't change colour, of course, but Jack got the picture.

"He was messing with your dreams?" As far as Jack had been able to gather from the silent Guardian and the reticent boogeyman, Pitch and Sandy had recently come to an uneasy truce of sorts where they each sent dreams or nightmares to different people and generally stayed out of each other's way. Given what had happened last time Pitch had started directly corrupting Sandy's dreams, he wasn't surprised that Sandy had gotten defensive about it.

"Those children were mine by right, Sanderson!" Pitch snarled. "They had been watching nothing but horror movies the entire evening and you were going to give them dreams about _sea life_?! I was practically delivered a hand-written request for nightmares, you imbecile!"

Sandy glared at the boogeyman, and Pitch shrank back into a more defensive stance.

"Uh… He's actually kind of got a point there, Sandy." Jack said. "I mean, not with the insult. But if the kids are looking for thrills with late-night horror flicks, I think a heart-pounding nightmare is a pretty good way to end the night."

Sandy rubbed his chin in thought, then nodded reluctantly. A little dreamsand notebook flipped open and was scribbled in by a tiny pencil. _Noted._ He glanced over at the boogeyman and gave him the _'I'm watching you'_ gesture, then waved cheerily at Jack and flew off once more.

"Well, that was an interesting way to start my night," Jack remarked, slinging his staff over his shoulder and turning on his heel to look at Pitch. "You really should…" Jack trailed off when he noticed the way Pitch was staring at him. It was a really intense look of curiosity, interest and a touch of amazement, and it made Jack feel like Pitch wanted to dissect him and figure out how he ticked. "Uh… You're creeping me out here."

"You stood up to the Sandman for me." Pitch said, still staring as if Jack was something he had never seen before.

"I guess I did?" Jack replied hesitantly.

"You made Sanderson stop. Ha!" A little bubble of laughter escaped the boogeyman. Paired with the already disconcerting gaze, it made the hair on the back of Jack's neck stand on end. Pitch was on his feet now, circling around Jack and looking him up and down. "Are you ill? Did you recently take a blow to the head?"

"No, and stop _doing_ that."

Pitch stopped in front of Jack, eyes sparking with something that looked like hope. "Did you change your mind?"

"About what? Wait, about joining you? Uh, no." Jack said, taking a step back.

The spark died, and Pitch set his jaw. "Ah. A pity." He dropped his gaze and started to brush snow off of his sleeve.

"I'm not just going to watch you take a beating, Pitch. Well, unless I know you deserve it."

"Then you'll assist in administering it, I presume," Pitch said, mouth curling into a wry smile. "...I appreciate the assistance, in any case. Even if your reasons for doing so seem to make little sense."

"They'd really make sense to anyone but you, you know," Jack said, shaking his head.

"Oh, really? Well, I've always suspected that I was the only one who was actually sane on this planet."

"…That's not how sanity works, I don't think."

"Of course _you_ would think that, you're one of the insane ones," Pitch replied with a shrug. "Now, the night is still young and I have work to do. Goodbye." He vanished without waiting for a reply.

_Yep, definitely an odd night._ Jack thought. If that was how Pitch reacted to Jack talking down Sandy, he was glad Pitch hadn't found out about the time he had faced down all the Guardians in defense of the boogeyman.


	38. Revisited Past

Personal visits by the boogeyman were something special. Terrifying and generally unwelcome, yes, but still special. He didn't have the time to visit just anyone, though he certainly would love to be able to bask in the night terrors of everyone on the planet. Unfortunately, being in more than one place at a time was still outside of his abilities.

Still, he did very much enjoy paying special attention to a few unlucky children. It was very satisfying to be able to hear the screams in person.

This particular child, no, teen had piqued his interest as a bit of an oddity. Still a believer, both in the Guardians and the boogeyman, in her late teens. Usually only kids that got personal and frequent visits from the Guardians, like Jamie Bennett, remained so steady in their faith. And to believe in him, too, despite having never been to one of his ever-growing Halloween affairs? Perhaps she was a bit simple, or something.

In any case, his curiosity had been roused and he figured he owed such a solid believer a personal visit. Give her a proper scare as a thank you.

He hadn't been expecting the girl to have such a bizarre and elaborate set-up in her room, so he hadn't been particularly careful or vigilant as he emerged from the shadows of her closet and stalked toward the bed. His first step into the room had his foot brought down on a rubber toy that made a irritating and loud _squeak. _Pitch only had an instant to notice that the floor was completely covered with squeaky toys before the girl in the bed sat up with a gasp and flicked on a flashlight to shine directly in his face.

Pitch hissed and recoiled at the sudden unpleasant light, shielding his eyes. A shadow darted out and flicked over the flashlight, blowing out the bulb and sending the room back into blessed darkness once more. Pitch bared his teeth in a snarl. "Did you truly think you could ward me off so easily, child?" he hissed, eyes narrowing. Shadows slithered out in front of him, clearing a path through the toys so that he could stride up threateningly to the bed without having a cacophony of squeaks ruin his entrance.

The girl shrieked, but not in the way he liked. This sound had no terror behind it, this was a cry of... joy? "It's you! It's really you!"

Pitch paused. Was this girl like the others he had encountered, who were under the impression he was some kind of demon they had summoned? Pitch had appreciated the amount of black that those teenagers had wore, but the implication that he was some kind of creature that could be called upon to do anyone else's bidding had angered him. After he was done with those wannabe creatures of darkness, they had slept with the lights on for weeks. Might it be time for another repeat performance? "And just who do you think I am, girl?" he asked.

"The boogeyman, of course! Pitch Black! I knew you would come!" The teenager was practically buzzing with excitement. "Oh, oh, can you tell me a scary story or something?"

Pitch glared at her, displeased at the lack of fear. "Asking for a bedtime tale from the boogeyman? Aren't you worried you'll get nightmares?"

"Well, that's really up to you, isn't it?" she asked with a grin.

Pitch was struck with a sense of deja vu. He knew that kind of smile, brazen and fearless completely in spite of having the Nightmare King standing before them. He'd endured it far too many times from a certain Guardian. "Jack Frost put you up to this, didn't he?" Pitch growled. "I'm going to kill him."

"What? No. I mean, I talked to Jack about you a bit, yeah. But it's kind of hard to be scared of someone who saved your life. Uh, sorry about that."

"Saved? I did no such thing!" Pitch protested.

"You don't remember? I mean, it was more than ten years ago, but that isn't very long for you, I don't think..."

"Ten years..." Pitch frowned. Oh, yes, that first Halloween. He had suffered a momentary lapse in judgement and rescued a small child, hadn't he? Yes, he could see the similarities in this teenager now. "Oh. You."

"You do remember!" The girl positively beamed in delight. "I kept that bag you gave me, you know." She opened a drawer in her bedside table and pulled out a small bag. "A keepsake, to make sure I wouldn't forget or pass it off as a dream. The candy's long gone, though."

Pitch stared at the object in the girl's hands. Just a cheap polyester bag, black and patterned with cobwebs. He remembered finding a box of those, abandoned in some dusty storehouse, and deciding to use them for treat bags for the ridiculous custom of candy-giving amongst the celebration of fear. He didn't particularly like it, but if Halloween was going to be his, he had resolved to do it correctly. Pitch had never thought that someone would attach any particular significance to the gifts, though; children were notoriously inconstant, a simple novelty could only be expected to hold their attention for a short period of time.

"I, um, never got to thank you." The girl was continuing to speak. "That's why I set this-" She gestured at the toy-strewn floor. "-up. So that if you came by to give me nightmares that I'd wake up and I wouldn't miss you. I tried just staying up at night, but that didn't work out very well. So, yeah, thanks. You're my hero."

Pitch snorted. "You're foolish to think that I would be interested in your thanks, and you're even more of a fool if you think that I am any kind of hero. It was a whim, scaring away that man, nothing more."

"They caught him, you know," she said, still seemingly unfazed. "They never did figure out what destroyed his car, though. Some kind of huge blade, it looked like."

A corner of Pitch's mouth twitched upwards slightly. "Yes, that _was_ quite cathartic. Though I really couldn't care less about his fate. And you know, if you were so set on talking to me, I'm not that difficult to find. All you had to do was attend one of the yearly Escapes. It would have saved you the trouble of this ridiculousness." He gestured at the squeaky toys.

"I'm not allowed to go out at night on my own, and certainly not at Halloween. This was my only chance," she replied, looking down at the sheets she had bunched in her hands.

"I see. Well, you've had your say now. I'm clearly not getting any fear out of this, so I'll be taking my leave." Pitch started to walk away from the bed.

"Wait! Please."

Pitch stopped and glared at the girl. "I'm not a hero. I'm not a Guardian. I don't just hang around children because they _want_ me to." Not that many wanted him around anyway. Well, except on Halloween. "And I am certainly not your friend. Spend time with Jack Frost if you're so eager for the company of an immortal. You seem to know him and he actually puts up with the kind of stupidity that children cause."_  
_

Oh, _now_ the teen was scared. Afraid she'd never see him again, _that _was certainly a fear he'd never had aimed at him before. This was certainly turning out to be a night of surprises. "But there's so much I want to say still!" she said.

"So sorry to crush your dreams, girl. Oh, wait, no. I'm not. Killing dreams is what I do. You should really pick a better role model," Pitch drawled, taking a few more steps towards the shadows of the closet.

"Wait, wait! You like scaring people, right? Halloween's coming up. If... if you'll take me to the Escape this year, then my parents won't be able to find me. They'll be terrified."

"Oh?" Pitch turned and looked at the teenager. "Your parents have already been through a kidnapping scare once, and you would make them think their daughter has been stolen once more? On Halloween again, no less? You are a _dreadful_ child." A wide, toothy grin spread over his face. "I think I like you. ...I'll consider it."

The girl looked guilty now, but that still didn't stop her from talking. "My... My name is Kathy. Katherine. And I'll be waiting."

"I really don't care, girl. And don't hold your breath." Pitch faded back into the shadows.

* * *

_Author's Note- Ugh, an entire chapter of Pitch interacting with an OC. I apologize. My muse just decided to grab me by the throat and force me to write up what happened to that kid who was featured way back in chapter 4._

_ Unless people express interest in it, this will not happen again, promise._

_Also, haha, Pitch is still a jerk. Jack gets to see his 'softer' side way more than anyone else._


	39. Capture

_Author's note- Alright, people asked for it, so here you go. We should be back to more normal fare next chapter. Still accepting writing prompts._

* * *

Katherine sat on the edge of her bed, jiggling one leg impatiently. Tonight was Halloween, and her overprotective parents had given her the usual spiel about staying in and staying safe. It's a school night, they said. Going out to a party would be irresponsible, and you never knew what might happen at the event, or on the way back home. Better to be sensible and have a good night's sleep.

The same argument they had been making for years now, once she had gotten too old to trick-or-treat (with her dad always one step behind her) and her friends had started having parties and visiting haunted houses instead. She'd never been allowed out to one, not unless her mom or dad had stuck to her like a burr the whole time and there was no fun in that.

Not that it mattered this year, as she had no intention of leaving her room until Pitch showed up. She'd wait up all night if she had to.

…Pitch would come, right?

But the night got later and later and there was not a sign of the boogeyman to be seen.

When her parents came to say goodnight and headed to bed themselves, she felt the pit of her stomach drop. Her bargaining chip was gone now, her parents probably wouldn't check up on her until morning, wouldn't notice even if she was taken away now. Maybe Pitch was just busy. It had to be a big night for him. He'd still show up, right?

Kathy struggled to fight down anxiety and doubt. He had to come. He had to. She'd waited so long. It wasn't too much to ask to want to have a conversation with him.

It was past midnight when she felt a chill run down her spine and suddenly there were shadows wrapped around her body, pinning her limbs. She would have screamed in surprise but a hand clamped over her mouth, stifling her cries.

"I've come to the conclusion that rescuing you was a mistake, girl," a voice hissed in her ear. "And it's one that I intend to correct tonight. Say goodbye to your home, you may never see it again!" Cold laughter was the last thing she heard before darkness swallowed her and she felt as though she was plummeting into a bottomless pit.

The blackness and the falling sensation went on just long enough for her to fear that she might be stuck like this forever, and suddenly there was gravel crunching underneath her shoes. Her knees buckled at the sudden return of reality and she fell heavily on her backside with a grunt. She gasped, desperately dragging air into her lungs as her eyes darted around to take in her new surroundings.

Huge, twisted, looming structures stood all around, outlined by the stars in the moonless night sky. Dim, flickering illumination was granted by a pitiful handful of grimy and tarnished streetlamps. Trash littered the ground, and there were a number of rusty, askew signposts on either end of the path she found herself on. Off to one side, there was a cluster of booths with barred, darkened service windows that stared like the empty eyes of a corpse.

An amusement park. She was in the middle of long-abandoned amusement park. Not another soul was in sight, nothing moved but for a faint, moaning breeze that plucked at her clothes and rustled through the trash on the ground.

She shivered, recalling the last threatening words she had heard before ending up here. Pitch didn't really mean it, did he? This was just a game, right? A trick? "Pitch?" she called hesitantly. No reply, not a hint of movement in this rusted, forgotten place.

It began to dawn on Kathy that she really didn't know _anything_ about the boogeyman. She'd talked to him for, what, all of five minutes? She'd mostly just arbitrarily assigned positive traits to a being that she'd met only momentarily a long, long time ago. He certainly didn't act as warmly or nobly as she had always assumed her savior would. Really, he'd been completely rude and distant at best and... downright threatening at worst. Maybe he really _did_ mean she would never see home again.

Fear slowly curled around her spine and she hugged herself tightly with a little whimper.

A shadow flickered out of the corner of her eye, and she turned just in time to see _something_ vanish amongst the concession booths. "P-Pitch?"

She gathered up her courage and got to her feet to go follow after whatever it was. The sounds of her footsteps crunching over gravel and crinkling through discarded wrappings felt almost deafening in the disquieting silence of the area. The noise of her breathing and of her heart thumping in her ears seemed to cover up whispers that she swore were just _barely_ on the range of her hearing, or maybe it was just her imagination. And was that another set of footsteps behind her, moving only when she did? Kathy whirled around quickly, but there was no sign of life in the abandoned buildings. Still, the hair on the back of her neck was prickling, and goosebumps were rising on her arms. Was she following after the thing, or was it stalking her?

Suddenly, there, another glimpse of the moving shadow, slithering into one of the waiting shelters for a roller-coaster. Both drawn to and scared of the only sign of life in this long-dead place, Kathy crept into the darker shadows of the shelter, eyes darting all around. "Pitch?" she asked for a third time, barely more than a whisper now.

A few grains of something (_sand_?) fell onto her hair and shoulders and she jerked her gaze to the ceiling above her.

A centipede the size of a horse was perched in the rafters, slowly uncoiling down towards her, multi-faceted eyes glowing in the darkness and mandibles open wide.

Kathy let out the loudest scream she had ever heard and bolted out of the shelter, all thoughts in her mind gone but for escape. She swore she could hear the awful skittering of countless legs behind her, and it only made her run that much faster, tearing down pathways and around corners at a breakneck pace.

When her burning lungs and legs could carry her no further, Kathy collapsed against a fence, sobbing for breath and trying to calm her pounding heart before it managed to hammer its way through her ribs. A sudden noise made her gasp and spasm in fear, nearly falling over.

"Why, whatever is the matter, child? Is spending time with fear and darkness not as fun as you thought it would be?" a soft, taunting voice said.

Kathy looked around, but there was no physical sign of the boogeyman. She couldn't pinpoint where the voice was coming from. "I… I…" she stammered, trying to remember exactly _what_ she wanted to say.

"Oh no, you aren't bored of this already, are you? Shall I make it more interesting? Let's have a contest, shall we? I've taken something of yours. If you can find it before sunrise, I'll take you back home, safe and sound. If not… I'll be having more of my _particular_ brand of fun."

Kathy shivered at the coldness of that voice. "Taken something? What? Don't… Don't I get a hint?"

"A hint? Hmm, very well, how about this. _The shadows are darkest where the light is brightest_. That should be easy enough for a clever child such as yourself. Time's a wasting…" The voice, Pitch, seemed to fade and be gone.

Kathy bit her lip and checked her watch. About four hours to sunrise. …Just what would happen if she failed? She felt a chill run down her spine and shook her head. She'd just have to find whatever it was. That was all. She didn't have the faintest idea what the clue meant, though.

Still, this place couldn't be that big. She could search a fair chunk of it in four hours.

As she willed her shaking legs to carry her forward, she tried not to think about the possibility of more of those _things_ lurking in the shadows to ambush her.

* * *

An hour of fruitless search and jumping at every half-imagined noise later, Kathy was trying to fight down panic. It was impossible. There were too many paths to venture down, too many little corners to check and she couldn't even bring herself to go into most of the buildings because she had no idea what could be lurking inside. And every time she passed over a building that looked too shadowy, too creepy to search, she hated herself a little more for it. _That was it, that was the one that has what I'm looking for and I can't get it because I'm too much of a coward…_

She didn't even know what she was looking for. For all she knew, Pitch was lying and she'd never find anything, would never get back home. She felt tears start to sting her eyes.

One of the few streetlamps that held back the dark flickered and went out. She'd thought she couldn't get any more scared, but apparently she was wrong, because the thought of being trapped in this place alone in complete blackness sent a whole new wave of terror through her. "No, please…" she whispered, holding her breath as she watched the nearest streetlamp to the burnt-out one dim ever so slightly. She swore she could see the patch of shadows reach out hungrily towards that light. A few more valiant flickers and now that one was dead too.

Kathy whimpered and backed away, back down a pathway of still-functioning lights.

Another lamp went out.

The teen whirled and ran down the path, trying to stay ahead of the encroaching darkness.

* * *

The chase finally lead her to a part of the park she hadn't been to before, and before she knew it she found herself in front of what must have been the only attraction that actually seemed to be operational.

The haunted house, of course.

It was the only building that actually had its lights on, casting a sickly greenish glow out into the night.

_Where the light is brightest…_

Kathy took a few hesitant steps towards it, dread creeping through her. The park itself was bad enough. What sort of horrors would lurk in a place that was meant to be scary even before the boogeyman corrupted it?

She was at the door now, shaking hands on the handle. This was a horrible idea. It was probably a trap.

…It was her only chance.

She steeled herself and shoved the door open wide.

The entrance hallway, oddly enough, looked completely normal. It was decorated in a manner that was obviously intended to be spooky, yes, but it was the usual fare for chintzy theme park attractions, not the kind of bone-chilling foreboding that had seeped into everything else here. And, there. At the end of the hall, a table with a familiar little black treat bag, filled with candy as it had been all those years ago.

For the first time that night, Kathy thought she was more confused than scared. Then she remembered that she had a time limit to worry about, and started edging cautiously down the hallway, trying to watch everywhere at once, roof, ceiling, and walls. Something bad was going to happen, surely. But she had to get back her bag.

It seemed to take an eternity before she was able to stretch out and snatch it off of the table and cradle it protectively in her arms.

"Surprise," she heard from behind her, and suddenly she was falling through complete darkness again.

Kathy found herself back in her bedroom once more. She never thought she'd be so relieved to see those four walls again. Pitch abruptly appeared in front of her and she flinched and shrank back.

"So, was it everything you imagined?" he asked with a smirk.

"Wha- What?" she replied.

"The Escape. I put on a special one for you, since you've been so sorely deprived of Halloween fun…"

Katherine gaped at him. "Fun?!"

Pitch chuckled. "Well, fun for me at least. You are very entertaining, my dear."

"But… I… What would have happened if I had lost?"

"Why, I would have taken you back home eventually, of course. Kidnapping humans is more trouble than it's worth, you have all these pesky needs for things like food and water." The boogeyman grinned, showing all of his teeth. "But sunrise is around the time when your parents come to wake you up for school, isn't it? They would have found you missing, and that would have been just _wonderful. _It's really a shame you performed so admirably."

"So it was all just a trick?"

"Not very quick on the uptake, are we?" Pitch said in a bored tone. "In any case, I hope that I have successfully removed your illusions regarding my 'niceness'. And I wish you the best of luck in attending classes on, oh, two hours of sleep." He smirked once more and vanished.

Kathy blinked, still processing _what_ had just happened. Finally she looked down at the treat bag in her hands and felt a smile start to slowly spread over her face. "I don't know if all those illusions are gone..."


	40. Games

One of Jack's believers wasn't coming outside to play very often. Jack had dropped by to make sure everything was okay, since it was flu season and all.

It turned out that the kid had just been distracted by the latest video game he had gotten for Christmas and had been spending most of his free time on it. Jack was at first skeptical that tapping some buttons could possibly compare to romping around out in the snow, but the kid had roped him into trying it out and he had to admit, the game _was _pretty fun. Okay, really fun.

Snowball fights were still better, of course, but he could definitely see the appeal of this.

He'd actually enjoyed it enough that when the kid told Jack he could keep playing while he went off to school, Jack had taken him up on the offer. He'd lost track of time, immersed in the intense, adventure-filled atmosphere that the game created.

Jack was just sending his character down a dark, unexplored path when something behind the couch he was sitting on made the awful, rattling hiss of the worst enemies in the game. He nearly jumped out of his skin, dropping the controller with a scream and scrambling for his staff. He whirled to come face-to-face with the grinning boogeyman, who looked far too pleased with himself. Jack let out a strangled sound of irritation, his heart still pounding from the fright. "Pitch, you jerk! You scared the heck out of me!"

Pitch's grin somehow grew even wider. "That's what I do, Jack. You really should have caught onto that by now."

"You're despicable," Jack muttered, glancing back to the TV just in time to see his unminded character meet an unfortunate and messy end. "Oh, for Pete's sake! I got so far that time too!" He glowered at Pitch. "I hope you're happy."

"Ecstatic," Pitch replied. "Though I must say, you know the King of Nightmares personally and you're going to some little _simulation_ to get an adrenaline rush? I'm a little insulted."

"I just wanted to see what the fuss was about, is all." Jack said, setting his staff aside and picking the controller back up. "And it's not just about getting scared, there's also a sense of satisfaction from improving your skills. Not everything is about you."

"I beg to differ. And if it isn't, then it should be."

"You are such a narcissist." Jack flopped back on the couch, then glanced sidelong at the boogeyman with a little grin. "You know, this thing does have multiplayer..."

* * *

"Oh, man, you are awful at this!" Jack laughed as he sniped Pitch's character for the fifth time.

The boogeyman snarled, ferociously mashing buttons. "It's hardly my fault! This device is _completely _unintuitive! And this person lacks teleportation abilities! I've never had to deal with strategizing under these conditions!"

"You big baby. You don't hear me whining about how my character can't fly, do you?" Jack taunted.

Pitch growled, and suddenly there was nightmare sand slithering over Jack, tracing feather-light touches over his sides, armpits and neck, all of the most ticklish places on the Guardian. Jack squawked and flailed, falling off of the couch.

Pitch took advantage of the Guardian's distracted state to sneak up behind his character and finish him off. "Ahahaha! Revenge!" he cackled.

"You- you cheater!" Jack gasped from the floor, and the sand vanished as though it had never been.

"Cheat? Me?" Pitch held a hand to his chest, looking down at Jack with a shocked and innocent expression. "You must be mistaken. I would certainly never stoop to such disgraceful means. That would be the action of a _villain._"

"You're literally the worst."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Jack." Pitch turned back to the screen and and tapped a few buttons. "Haha, got you again."

"I really, really don't know why I put up with you." Jack muttered.

"I always assumed it was because of my winning personality and devilishly good looks." Pitch said with a straight face. "Now, are you going to sulk on the floor all day? It's hardly any fun killing you if you don't put up a fight. Though I still will, of course."

"You have all the charm of a seasick alley cat, Pitch. And you asked for it." Jack settled into a cross-legged position on the floor and picked his controller back up, seeming to focus on the game once more.

The shriek that the boogeyman made when a sudden draft dumped a load of snow down the back of his robes was really quite impressive.

And to say that the boy was surprised when he came back home after school and stumbled across this scene would be a bit of an understatement.


	41. Energy

Pitch was trying some to create some new things with his Nightmare sand. It was taking more practice than he thought it would, at least to make anything semi-sentient. Nightmares just came about naturally from it, and the Hellhounds were just tweaking the form and focus of the fear a little from sleeping to waking. But something like that centipede... Well, they ended up more like puppets than minions. Maybe the lack of mental capacity of the base creature?

Well, he wasn't about to give up. Maybe so many legs made things too complicated. He'd try something a little simpler now.

Once he'd perfected them, he really couldn't wait to hear Jack's screams when he faced down the horse-sized spiders next Halloween. That would be glorious. He loved phobias, they were so easy to exploit.

A sudden chill breeze blew over the nape of his neck and he hurriedly squashed his miniature test creature. He wanted it to be a surprise, after all, and it seemed as though Jack was dropping in for a visit once more.

He turned around just in time to see the Guardian come barreling towards him at top speed. A shocked "Gah!" was all he managed to get out before he was bowled over and the two of them tumbled head-over heels down a flight of stairs. When they finally came to a halt and the world stopped spinning, Pitch found himself staring into a disgustingly bright smile.

"Hahaha! Hi, Pitch! Startling isn't so fun when the shoe is on the other foot, is it?"

"I'm not going to dignify that with an answer. Now, get off of me," Pitch growled, shoving the Guardian away and getting back to his feet. He brushed off his robes and gave the Guardian a glare. "And that wasn't startling, that was _tackling_."

"Oh, but you were surprised by it, so it counts as both! Them's the rules!" Jack leapt back into a standing position. He was grinning from ear to ear and practically vibrating with gleeful energy. "And that also means that I win, heehee!"

Pitch stared blankly at Jack. He seemed even more excitable than he usually was, which Pitch honestly hadn't thought possible.

Jack didn't seem to mind or notice the fact that Pitch wasn't responding, but continued to babble on happily, bouncing in place. "Hey, don't you ever get bored of being cooped up in your lair all the time? I mean, I get bored sometimes and I don't even _have _anywhere to be penned in, really. The sky is the limit for me, and sometimes even that's not enough! I really wanted to go out to space one day, you know, but the wind can't go out there, so I don't know how I'm supposed to. I tried to hitch a ride on a shuttle once but it was too hot and too hard to hang on to. Do you think Manny would mind if I popped in for a visit once I work out how to get there?"

"…Are you purposefully endeavoring to be even more annoying than usual? Or have you finally just lost your mind?" Pitch asked, taking a step back from the energetic Guardian.

"Oh, no, I just got introduced to a new drink today. Jamie gave me some, um, expresso, yeah! It was really tasty! Well, he didn't really give it to me, I guess, but it was on the table and how was I supposed to know it was for other people?"

Pitch was still trying to gather his composure in the face of this strange scenario. All he could think was: _I cannot believe that this thing was allowed to consume caffeine. Giving a chimpanzee a firearm would be a safer and more sensible thing to do._

Jack had created some snowballs and was juggling them, still talking. "But, yeah, after I drank a couple of those, or five or six, he made me leave because I was making it snow everywhere. Not very nice of him, I think. Really, he should learn to respect his elders. I'm a senior citizen, after all!" He suddenly threw his hands up in the air and beamed, the snowballs dropping, forgotten, to the ground. "Oh, oh! I can get discounts on movie tickets and things! I'm definitely over 65!"

Finally Pitch managed to cut into the stream of nonsense and say, "For one thing, you don't have identification to prove that, and you hardly look, or act, your age. Besides, you don't have to pay admission anyway, they can't see you." …Wait, why was he even talking about this? Oh no, was the insanity contagious?

"Hah! You're right! I can watch all the free movies I want! That's awesome!"

"Yes, you should definitely go take advantage of that. Right now. Don't let me stop you."

"That's a great idea! I'll just-" Jack started to float off, but abruptly stopped. "Wait, you're trying to trick me!"

"I would never dream of such a thing."

"Yeah, you are, you're trying to distract me from what I came here to do!"

Pitch was almost afraid to ask. "Oh? And what would that be, aside from assaulting me?"

"I, uh…" Jack stroked his chin pensively for a moment, then an epiphany seemed to dawn on him. "Ahah! I remember now!" Fast as lightning, he zipped behind the boogeyman and hooked his arms under Pitch's armpits, lifting him off of the ground.

"Jack! Put me down right now!" Pitch snarled.

"Haha, no. You're coming with me!" Jack started to fly the both of them out of the lair.

"I demand that you let me go!" Pitch thrashed furiously. Held off the ground like this, he couldn't touch any shadows and vanish into them. And he couldn't seem to break Jack's hold.

"Nope!" the Guardian replied cheerily. "See, after Jamie kicked me out I got a bunch of kids together for a snowball fight but there wasn't enough! It was boring, no fun at all. And then I thought, hey, Pitch lives around here! Getting him involved would make things interesting, I can't believe I've never had a snowball fight with the boogeyman before. And I bet he would like it too!"

"You would lose that bet, you little brat!"

"You know, it won't kill you to drop that 'I hate everything' act once in a while, Pitch."

"It's not an act!"

"Whatever. We're here!" Jack dropped Pitch in the middle of a large field. It was knee-deep in snow, the kind that was perfect for packing into snowballs. There seemed to be over a hundred children romping in the area, shrieking joyously and pelting each other with snow. Most of them stopped to stare, though, as an enraged boogeyman was dropped into their midst.

Pitch's glare was positively poisonous by this point, his face twisted in anger. He opened his mouth as if to scream more invectives, but abruptly stopped. He closed his eyes and heaved a sigh. When he opened them he looked much calmer, yet somehow more menacing. "You want to play? Fine. Let's _play_."

Towering waves of nightmare sand suddenly rose up all around the boogeyman, sending the children near him scrambling away. The sand gathered and swirled into an enormous cylinder, then just as suddenly dropped, slithering away under the snow. The kids looked at their buried feet in worry, and Pitch looked up to smirk at Jack.

He raised his hand and suddenly all of the snow in the field was lifted off of the ground by a thin layer of nightmare sand. Pitch snapped hand forward and the entire load of it was hurled at the Guardian, driving him to the ground and burying him under 6 feet of the stuff.

By the time Jack managed to dig himself out, the kids were all laughing at him and Pitch had vanished into the shadows once more.


	42. Snowmen

_Author's note-_ _Good heavens this chapter is silly. It, uh, got away from me a little while I was writing it. I apologize. I also blame LittleMana. She's the one who asked for this chapter to happen.  
_

* * *

Pitch was back in this lair, doing what he did best. Plotting.

Out of his right mind or not, the flippant way that Jack treated him could not be allowed to stand. He was the Nightmare King, the Boogeyman, not some playmate for the Guardian of Fun to drag around at his leisure.

The snow burial was a good start, but it was hardly enough to soothe Pitch's stung pride.

Oh, no, Jack Frost would pay.

And Pitch had just the thing.

* * *

It had taken a little bit of waiting for the caffeine to finally wear off (during which Pitch stayed firmly in shadow form, he was not going to have to deal with that insanity again) and for Jack to wake up from the untwitching slumber he fell into when he crashed (Pitch had to resist the urge to draw a mustache on him, that was not behavior suiting the King of Nightmares).

But soon enough the Guardian was back on his feet, spreading winter and playing with kids again.

For this little trick Pitch had to venture out into the world while it was still daylight, something he detested. The sunlight stung his eyes, but sticking to the shadows made watching for his opportunity bearable.

There, finally, Jack was building snowmen with a group of children. Time for Pitch to try out his new idea.

He let a fistful of nightmare sand slither out over the snow and slip inside of a snowman as Jack was putting the finishing touches on it, plopping an old hat on its head and straightening its scarf. The coal eyes glinted for an instant, but Jack had already turned around to check on how the other kid's snowmen were going. A little girl was the first to notice something was amiss when the snowman's head slowly turned to face her and blackened ice crystals formed a sharp-toothed grin over its face.

Her scream was delightful.

The other children and Jack quickly took note of the situation when the snowman lumbered forward and snagged one boy's hat off of his head. Soon the entire group of kids was running for it, pursued by the snowy monstrosity. Jack stood dumbstruck for an instant, then his eyes zeroed in on the dark patch of shadows Pitch was lurking in.

"Pitch, I know you're there, you buttface! Turn my snowman back right now!"

"But I like it better this way," Pitch said with a smirk, becoming more solid and visible.

"Well, decide whether you prefer it staying that way or you continuing not to be encased in ice, because only one of those things is going to happen!"

"Was that a threat? How precious." His eyes flicked to the snowman. The children were long gone, having outrun the creature, and it was now coming back this way. "But I suppose I already have ruined an entire afternoon of play for you, haven't I?" He shrugged and snapped his fingers.

Nothing happened.

The snowman continued to move.

Pitch's eyes narrowed and he snapped his fingers again.

"Pitch, stop messing around."

"It's not working!" Pitch exclaimed. "Why isn't it-"

The snowman lumbered up to one of its inanimate counterparts and sank its fangs into it. The bitten snowman shuddered and came to life as well.

"Pitch, you-"

"I'm not doing it!" The boogeyman said, a little frantically. "I can't call the nightmare sand back!"

The snowmen had taken this moment to infect two more of their compatriots, and now there were four of them to worry about.

"Oh no." Jack and Pitch said almost simultaneously.

* * *

"How can these things even move? They don't have any feet!" Jack yelled exasperatedly as the two of them rushed through town to try to corral the rapidly-growing number of zombie snowmen.

"I don't know! I blame your influence, you're always doing nonsensical things with snow and ice. Like skating in bare feet, how does that even work?" Pitch snapped.

"Yeah, because phasing through shadows is oh so rational, right?"

"But they're not teleporting, thank the darkness! Look, there's one, blast it!"

Jack sent a flurry of ice at the creature. It stuck to the snowman, but the thing didn't even slow down.

"Great job there, you just made it bigger!"

"You're the one who told me to shoot it!"

"What are we supposed to do about things that just absorb whatever we can throw at them?" Pitch didn't like to think about what would happen if the snowmen got more nightmare sand. He hadn't thought that mixing Jack's fun-infused snow with his nightmare sand would pose such a problem for his control.

"I don't know! I think we should call in the other Guardians!"

"No! They'll blame me for the whole mess!"

"It's completely your fault!"

"That's beside the point!" Pitch snapped. He paused for an instant. "Wait, I have an idea! Jack, try to gather up as many of them as you can in some kind of cage or something, I'll deal with the stragglers." The boogeyman ducked into a shadow and vanished.

"So help me, Pitch, if your idea is for you to scamper off and leave me to deal with this on my own…" Jack muttered, but he did as he was told anyway, forming a holding pen out of ice and using the wind to blast snowmen into it. Finally it seemed as if he'd collected all of them, he couldn't spot any more on his flyovers of the town.

Pitch showed up shortly afterwards, sauntering along the top of the ice walls. "You know, these things are really quite fascinating, it's a shame I can't control them."

"Pitch," Jack said warningly.

"Yes, yes, alright." He waved a hand and shadows rose up to swallow the snowmen, dragging them away to locations unknown.

"Where'd you send them?"

"The Sahara. The heat should take care of the problem for us."

The headlines for that town's newspaper _were_ a bit odd the next morning, though.


	43. Fears

_Author's Note- Oops, used up all my silly again, sorry! I really need to ration it out better. Instead, have a short and serious monologue of sorts. Normalcy should return shortly._

* * *

Pitch could always tell when children started to grow up, when their innocence was lost.

It was when they realized that there were so many things in the world to fear aside from the monster under the bed.

Those fears that made girls clutch their keys between their fingers walking home at night. The fears of a boy in a hospital, clutching a loved one's hand and not knowing if this was the last time they would ever meet. The fears of a gangly teenager who knew he would be thrown out into the street by his parents and ostracized by his friends if found out how he felt inside, what he was. The fears of a girl who crouches in a lightless building with her siblings, holding her breath and praying that the soldiers outside do not find them.

He'd tasted all those flavours and hundreds more like them in his millennia of existence.

And for the majority of it, he'd enjoyed them just as much as any other fear. The appearance of these anxieties tended to mark the fading of the child's faith in the Guardians, too, but it was just the cherry on top of the treat. The dawning terror of realization, of veils being ripped away from their eyes, that was something sweet, something to be savored. Or at least, it used to be.

It was only recently that he was starting to find them a little… bitter. Only recently that he started to feel resentment towards these fears, like he was seeing them in a new light.

He told himself this was because those children were supposed to be _his_. He found joy in most, if not all fears, it was true, but by far his favorite flavour was the pure, simple type that was terror of the boogeyman. They should pay attention to _him_.

The greatest fear that anyone held should be of the _boogeyman_. But it never was, not for long, and this irked him more than he liked to admit.

Recently he decided that perhaps the most galling were the children who were torn away from him and dragged into reality far too early, driven to maturity beyond their years by circumstances and the actions of monsters in the world he had no hand in creating.

He only had a few short, splendid years where it was simply the imagination of the child, and a nudge from yours truly, that provided all the entertainment he could ever want. That _any_ number of those nights of fright would be stolen from him filled him with rage.

And yet time marched inexorably onwards. Horrors that he, infuriatingly, had no command over happened again and again. And little by little, children transformed into adults. He had no power over the sands of time, nor of the actions that men and women took.

So sometimes, when it came time for the adolescents and adults of the world to have nightmares, Pitch would pass over those mature fears, the ones that truly struck terror into their waking hearts. Instead he'd dredge up long-forgotten, long-dismissed frights, of vampires and zombies, lurking shadowy creatures and other things that go bump in the night. Let them know that while they might have forgotten him, he certainly hadn't returned the favour.

And in this world of harsh realities and broken hearts, for a little while, Pitch would offer his own kind of escape.


	44. Rink

_Author's note- Here's another bit of insanity inspired by LittleMana._

_This weekend is going to be kind of busy for me. Next chapter will be up on Monday. Sorry about the wait._

* * *

Jack crouched at the edge of his lake with his hood drawn up and one arm slung across his knees. The other hand was using his staff to doodle designs in frost on the water's frozen surface. The kids he normally skated with on it had all been bundled away into the new indoor skating rink that had been opened in town.

And Jack got it, he did. He was no stranger to kids having fun indoors in the winter time. Not everyone had the same affinity for cold that he did. It was good that kids had things to do indoors when their fingers and toes started to go numb from the chill outside. He was the Guardian of all types of fun, not just the ones that had to do with him directly, after all. Video games, reading, drawing, he could appreciate the quieter, stiller enjoyments as well, even if he preferred more active pursuits himself.

But this, this _hurt_. Skating and hockey were things that could just as easily be done outside as indoors. He'd made perfectly good rinks for people to enjoy, and they'd turned to stifling, enclosed, unnatural options instead.

It wasn't the kids' fault, of course. Their parents had decided that it was better to have them in a walled-in location where they weren't likely to wander off and could be left with coaches for lessons in skating, hockey, ringette, etcetera. Plus, the ice was carefully maintained and there were no worries about thin ice when it was only a floor a few inches below the surface.

Jack could see the logic in that. He was the result of a skating outing gone awry, after all. He'd _never_ allow any child under his watch to fall through, of course. The thinnest of ice thickened safely within his presence. But the adults never saw him, never knew that he was safeguarding the kids. And they worried for their children's safety, he got it.

But it just felt as though he was being pushed out of the few niches that he had. Seeing snowmaking machines on ski hills gave him the same sort of sick, unwanted feelings.

_Oh, no, Jack, we don't need you. You're too messy, too uncontrollable. We want something nice and predictable instead. Just go back to being invisible, why don't you?_

Jack bit his lip and rapped his staff hard against the ice, sending spiraling ferns of frost lancing over the entire surface of the lonely lake.

"Mmm. I haven't been treated this particular flavour of fear in a long time, Jack. Honestly, it's making me feel a little nostalgic." A dark, looming shadow was cast across the ice next to him. Jack didn't bother to look up.

"Hi, Pitch." Jack said tiredly.

"Feeling a bit out of sorts, are we?"

"I'm really not feeling up to this right now. Just… leave me alone." Jack said with a sigh.

"Ah, yes, just like the good old days. You feeling all alone and isolated and telling me to shove off," Pitch replied airily. "Though I think you've got the roles reversed, here. _I'm_ supposed to be the gloomy, brooding one. _You're_ the disgustingly cheery brat."

Jack snorted. "Oh, don't worry, I'm sure I'm not able to hold a candle to one of your world-class sulks, Pitch. You still hold the top spot on the gloom-and-doom spectrum."

"You have no idea how relieved I am to know that." The boogeyman said dryly. "What is it that's got you so sour today?"

"Mmmph. Skating rink." Jack mumbled into his sleeve.

"Ah." Pitch was silent for a while, and Jack lapsed back into his thoughts. By the time Jack realized that it was rather strange for the boogeyman to shut up for so long and looked up, Pitch was gone.

* * *

The Burgess Indoor Skating Rink had an eventful week.

First just little things. The lights started to flicker intermittently, and particularly seemed to do so when there was just one person alone in the locker rooms, the hallways, the concession booth. Calling in an electrician to check the fuses and the connections turned up nothing.

Then the locker room incidents started. People swore that they had left their belongings one locker to the right of where they were found. The next day, the stuff somehow was all shifted two lockers over when everyone left the room. The third day, the belongings were moved right to the opposite end of the room from where they originally were.

The contents of all the maintenance closets swapped with each other on the fourth day. The janitors almost had a fit, especially since the lights were _still_ flickering every time they came by after hours to clean.

The Zamboni broke down on the fifth day. The repairman said that there were probably a dozen gaskets and bolts missing when he opened it up.

The missing parts were later found scattered around underneath the bleachers.

First, they figured it was probably the kids playing jokes on them, somehow. But an overview of the security camera footage from near the doors to the locker rooms, as well as the footage from the storage rooms, turned up not a sign of anyone.

Though there was one camera that had apparently had some kind of glitch. Near midnight, for about thirty seconds, the picture suddenly cut to static and flickered between that and utter blackness. Then it went back to normal, boring footage again.

O'Malley _swore_ he could see a figure looming in the dark of that footage. And that it was _smiling_ at him.

No one else could make out anything, even when they looked at it frame by frame. O'Malley didn't come back to the rink after that, saying that he knew better than to tangle with spooks.

On the sixth day, they came in that morning to find that all of the windows had been opened and snow had been blown in all over the place.

The seventh day seemed to see subtlety thrown to the wind, because there had been a message carved into the ice of the skating rink by what appeared to be a very large, very sharp blade.

'_GET OUT'_

After that, the owner decided that it was maybe wise to go take a vacation in a nice, warm, _bright_ locale and close the skating rink for a bit.

* * *

Jack landed on the roof of the rink just as a shadow poured out of the ventilation duct and coalesced into the shape of the boogeyman. Pitch was looking far too pleased with himself.

"Jeez, I have a bit of a down day, mention a skating rink, and the next thing I find out you've decided to _haunt_ the whole place? Really?" Jack asked.

"Maybe it was just a whim," Pitch replied with a shrug. "I can have fun if I want to, and this was a lot of fun. I've forgotten how much I enjoy a good old-fashioned haunting."

Jack shook his head and sighed, ducking his head to hide his smile. "…I'm going to have to watch everything I say around you, aren't I?"

"You don't already? You don't watch to make sure you don't give me something I could use against you, against the Guardians? Careful, Jack, or some people might come to the conclusion that you trust me or something," Pitch drawled, clasping his hands behind his back and staring out over the town.

"But I do," Jack said simply as he idly spun his staff between his fingers.

The boogeyman froze. "…What?"

Jack cocked his head to one side. "Trust you. I mean, we've been hanging out for _years_ now. I wouldn't be a very good friend if I didn't have some faith in you after all that, would I?"

Pitch whirled on Jack, fixing him with a long, appraising stare. Yellow eyes flicked over Jack's face, seeming to search for something hidden there. Twice Pitch's mouth opened as if he was about to say something, but he snapped it shut both times. Finally, he clenched his jaw and turned away from the Guardian, hands curling closed as though he was trying to hold onto something. "You're a fool, then. A fool and a liar," he finally said, flatly.

"What? I am not! Pitch, you cannot seriously be-" Jack started to say, but the boogeyman vanished. "…Surprised about this. What's _his_ problem?" The Guardian of Fun glanced around to see if Pitch was just lurking somewhere nearby. Not as far as he could tell. It looked like the boogeyman was long gone. What had set him off? "Weirdo," Jack muttered with a shrug.


	45. Trial

Jack didn't have nightmares.

He hadn't had so much as a single unpleasant dream for years now.

So it was a bit of a shock when he woke, gasping, from a doozy of one. He laid his arm across his face and groaned. Something to do with fire, he thought. He couldn't remember much now, the finer details were trickling out of his mind like water through a sieve. There was definitely flames, though, and screaming too.

"Just a nightmare." He muttered, shaking his head. He sat up to discover another unpleasant surprise. He was in one of the cages in Pitch's lair. "What?'

The sound of hundreds of little peeps and chitters drew his attention to several of the other prisons. In the cages next to his, Toothiana's entire workforce of mini-fairies was confined. Jack's brow furrowed in confusion. He peered through the bars, looked down, and saw the heaping mounds of tooth containers piled on the floor of the lair. Just like it had been before, a long time ago.

What was going on?

Jack tried the door of his cage and, unsurprisingly, found it locked. His staff was nowhere to be seen, either. "Pitch?" he called out, but there was no answer from the shadows.

There was a peep, however, from outside of the cage. Jack glanced downwards to see Baby Tooth climbing up the bars towards the lock, lugging a key slung over her shoulder that was almost as big as she was. Jack's face broke into a smile at the sight of his friend.

"Rescuing me, huh? I owe you one, Baby Tooth." Jack said, and the fairy gave him a smile in return, continuing her climb.

Sudden movement caught his eye and he lifted his gaze just in time to see a Nightmare loom out of the shadows and snap at Baby Tooth. Jack gasped and reached through the bars, grabbing her out of the way just as the creature's teeth clicked shut around the space she had occupied an instant earlier. The Nightmare shrieked in displeasure and struck its hooves against the bars, sending deafening clangs echoing through the cavern. Jack flinched backwards, curling protectively around Baby Tooth.

The bars prevented the Nightmare from getting at either of them, and after a few failed attempts to kick through, the creature whirled and charged off into the shadows once more.

"We'd better get out of here," Jack said, and Baby Tooth nodded in vehement agreement. She unslung the key from her shoulder and put it on Jack's palm. He unlocked the door and pushed the door open with a creak.

Jack eyed the far-off ground apprehensively. Without his staff, he couldn't fly, and it looked as though none of the mini-fairies or Baby Tooth were able to either. Just like before.

…Before what? Jack frowned and shook his head, trying to clear this thoughts. The Guardians had won, right? And… and he and Pitch were friends? Did that happen? His memory seemed a little fuzzy. Then why were he and the fairies trapped down here again? What was happening?

Baby Tooth patted his wrist and cheeped reassuringly. Jack shoved his confusion aside. He'd try to figure out that mystery when he was outside. "It's alright, Baby Tooth, I'll get us out of here," he said, placing her on his shoulder and swinging down so that he was hanging from his fingers from the bottom of the cage. _The drop's not so bad, _he told himself, and let go.

He landed on the piles of tooth containers hard, knees buckling and sending him sprawling down the slope of the mound. He finally came to a halt, wincing in pain. A moment's later inspection seemed to turn up nothing broken or sprained, just a fair amount of bruises. Baby Tooth seemed shaken, but unharmed. He clambered to his feet and looked up at the other mini-fairies in the cages. "Sorry, guys. I promise I'll come back and get you out as soon as I can."

Jack slid and stumbled off of the piles of tooth containers and, with no real idea of _where_ he was supposed to go, headed down one hallway at random. Didn't he used to know this place pretty well? Why couldn't he remember where the exit was?

The path led him to the room that held Pitch's rusted globe. The sight of it made a shiver run down Jack's spine. It was dark. No lights glimmered on the surface of the continents.

No, there was one. A single, dim and flickering speck of light, of hope. "Oh no. Jamie!" Jack gasped, closing the distance to the structure and pressing his hand to the little spark as if he could reach out to and reassure the child that it represented.

He couldn't, of course. He had to get there in person. Jack felt a twinge of wrongness, like something was telling him that this wasn't how things were supposed to be.

Well, _obviously_ this wasn't how things were supposed to be. Jack shoved aside his trepidations. He had more important things to worry about than some nagging feelings of unease. "We've gotta get out of here, Baby Tooth. Jamie needs us."

Baby Tooth chirped and tugged on his hood, pointing at one wall.

"Hm?" Jack followed her lead, walking to the patch of shadowed rock. "What's so important-" His eyes fell on a crack in the stone that he had mistaken for a patch of shade. Barely six inches wide at its largest point, but it seemed to lead to another room in the lair, and there, propped against the far wall of that room, lay his staff. Jack gasped and tried to squeeze through the crevice, but it was no use. Jamming his arm though the crack and straining at his utmost didn't even allow the tips of his fingers to brush his weapon. Jack sighed and pulled back.

"Well, at least we know where it is. We'll have to find another way arou-" Jack started to say, but Baby Tooth hopped off of his shoulder and slipped through the hole. "Baby Tooth, no!" Jack hissed, motioning for her to come back. "What if a Nightmare come back? You've gotta stick with m-"

"Out of your cage, Jack? Naughty, naughty. How did you even manage that?" A cold voice from behind him drawled, and Jack whirled around, pressing his back protectively to the crack in the wall.

Pitch stood several feet away, looking at Jack as if he were something particularly distasteful. A Nightmare trotted out of the shadows and came to his side, whickering. Pitch glanced at it, frowned, and looked back to Jack. "Ah. I must have missed one of Toothiana's little winged rats. Unfortunate, but easily enough rectified."

"Pitch, what are you doing?" Jack demanded.

"Really, Jack, I know you're not the sharpest tool in the shed, but even you should be able to figure _this_ one out. I'm getting rid of the Guardians. And, since you so foolishly declined my offer of equal footing, you're my newest little plaything," the Nightmare King replied darkly, taking a step forward.

Jack clutched his head as he felt it again, that twinge of _wrongness_. "No, this isn't right. You wouldn't… We… we're friends."

Pitch gave him an incredulous look. "Oh my, have I broken you already? I would have thought that your mind would stand up to a couple dozen nightmares better than that, but you're already lapsing into delusions? Really?" And suddenly Pitch was in front of him, hoisting Jack up by the front of his hoodie, their faces inches apart. "Or is this some form of Stockholm Syndrome setting in?" he asked softly, a malicious smirk across his face. Jack could feel the man's hot breath on his cheeks and lips. "Thinking that you might be treated better if you suck up to me now? It's far too late for that, Jack." Pitch threw him roughly against the wall.

Jack grunted and slid to his knees, winded.

"Are we thinking a little clearer now, boy?"

"… No, this is a trick, or something." Jack said, shaking his head. More memories were filtering back now. Pitch pulled this sort of thing all the time, didn't he? Acting like the bad guy. Well, not so convincingly, perhaps, but still…

"Still deluded, I see."

There was a peep and Jack's staff was shoved through the crack and fell to the floor beside him. Jack snatched it up, picking Baby Tooth up, more gently, as well.

Was that a spark of triumph in Pitch's eyes? "Oh, so you were biding time for your little friend to retrieve your weapon. Clever. But it will take more than that little stick to turn the tide."

Nightmares reared into existence all around him. Jack grinned and shot upwards, soaring up out of their reach. Pitch didn't know what he was talking about, now that Jack could fly it would be a piece of cake to get out of here. And once he was out in the open, Pitch would go back to normal and reveal that of course there had never been any danger, right? Jamie was fine, and so were all the other kids, they had to be.

Piece of cake was maybe a bit of an overstatement, though. He'd tucked Baby Tooth into his hoodie pocket for safekeeping, and it was a good thing too, considering the aerial maneuvers he was having to pull off in order to keep out of the teeth of the pursuing Nightmares.

He didn't see any Hellhounds at all, oddly.

Finally he caught a glimmer of moonlight shining down into the lair. The exit! Jack arrowed for the opening, but a grinding noise brought him up short. The stone around the exit was closing. He didn't even know that was possible!

Already the opening was too small for him to get through. Jack hissed under his breath and fished out Baby Tooth. "Be safe, okay?" he whispered before tossing her out the hole. The sound of her peeping protests was cut off as the opening snapped shut.

Jack turned around just in time for a Nightmare to ram into him and send him spiraling downwards to land heavily on a bridge spanning a deep and dark crevasse.

"Really, was that your best effort? You're more pathetic than I thought."

"Pitch, stop messing around," Jack said, getting up and facing Pitch down.

"Do you think this is some sort of game, boy?" Pitch asked, eyes narrowing.

"I know it is," Jack said with a shrug.

"You're never going to escape if you don't take this seriously, Jack," the boogeyman hissed. "You're holding back, and that's going to cost you and your poor little Jamie dearly."

"I don't believe you, Pitch. You're not like this, and you don't fool me." Jack looked at the staff in his hand, then back to the boogeyman. "I said I trusted you, and I do." In one swift movement, he flung his staff over the edge of the bridge, where it plummeted into darkness and vanished. Jack spread his arms wide and lifted his chin, giving Pitch a grin. "So go on. Do your worst."

A look of utter shock covered the boogeyman's face for a moment. Then he threw back his head and laughed. "You really _are_ a fool, Jack!" He flicked a hand and a towering wave of nightmare sand crested behind the boogeyman and rushed towards the Guardian. Jack didn't so much as move, and the sand washed over his unresisting form, drowning his senses in blackness.

The darkness consumed Jack.

* * *

_Author's Note- The end. Ahahahaha! I blame LittleMana!*runs off*_


	46. Deliberation

_Author's Note- I don't know if having a cliffhanger counts as an April Fool's Day prank, but if it does, haha, I got you good! (Here, I bring a peace offering chapter, please don't kill me.)_

* * *

Jack abruptly woke up, lying on the ice of his lake with his staff beside him. He smirked. "I knew it."

* * *

Pitch roared his displeasure and hurled a dusty chair across the room to shatter against the wall.

That wasn't supposed to happen!

Jack wasn't supposed to act that way!

He'd crafted the nightmare perfectly! He'd played off the boy's fears! He'd shown Jack just what he was capable of, reminded him of when they were _enemies_! He'd played the part of the villain perfectly- No, he _was_ the perfect villain, he wasn't just playing a part! Jack should have tried to blast him away! Why hadn't there even been the slightest flicker of fear or doubt at the end?

This was supposed to prove Jack wrong! That blasted trust was supposed to be a lie! It had to be a lie!

He wasn't trustworthy! He was the _Nightmare King_!

Jack was trying to trick him, had to be trying beguile him into… something. He was sure of it! It made no sense otherwise!

Maybe, maybe he'd gone too easy with the nightmare. Hadn't raised the stakes enough. He could have done far worse, looking back on it now. Jack had never given much thought to himself. Self-sacrificing to a fault, just like the rest of those idiotic Guardians. Jack's weakness and strength lay in the same place, in the children he protected. If he'd harmed the shade of a child in front of Jack, that surely would have made him snap…

But he had only wanted to put Jack on the defensive, only scare him a bit and prove that, hah, _of course_ he didn't trust in the boogeyman, not make the Guardian hate him.

…Why didn't he want Jack to hate him?

Well, that had an easy answer. Jack was the only thing standing between the Guardians and him; he knew that very well. He still wasn't strong enough to try to take the Guardians on yet.

It had nothing to do with the fact that he enjoyed Jack's company; that the constant, aching loneliness that he'd known his entire existence vanished when the Guardian came to bother him. The fact that he cared about Jack didn't factor in at all.

Wait, cared about _Jack_? About a _Guardian_?Where had that thought come from? That wasn't something he should be thinking!

Oh no, he was going mad. That was the only explanation for this bizarre behavior. That was it, this was the end. After a lifetime of humiliation and failure, he'd finally been driven round the bend. Next thing he knew, he'd be making daisy-chains with the rabbit or something. Or handing out presents to childre-

He already did that. He'd been doing that for _years_! Pitch let out a strangled little whimpering sound and collapsed to the floor in despair.

Lying face down on the dusty rock, Pitch resolved that he was not going to get up. No, he was going to lie here on the ground until the world came to an end. Maybe then he could salvage what last few scraps of dignity he had left.

"Hey, is it safe to come in, or are you still in 'I am Pitch, destroyer of worlds' mode?"

Pitch fought the urge to scream in frustration. He couldn't even be allowed to _die_ in peace, could he? "Is being the architect of my destruction not enough for you, Jack? Now you have come to torment me further?" he grumbled into the floor.

"What are you talking about? I didn't even touch you." Pitch felt a gust of cold wind pass over him as Jack landed nearby.

"No, you didn't have to, did you? Very clever. Was this your plan all along, Jack?"

"Uh, Pitch, are you feeling alright?"

"No. I'm not. I'm going insane."

"Well, I'm not about to argue with that, considering the way you're acting right now." Jack paused for a moment, as if anticipating a verbal barb to parry. Pitch didn't oblige. "…Are you going to get up?"

"No."

"You are literally the weirdest person I have ever met, Pitch," Jack sighed.

"Wonderful. Does that inspire you to leave me alone?"

"Nope! I knew you were weird from day one. Come on, Pitch. You can't sulk forever."

"Watch me."

Jack made a vaguely disappointed noise and Pitch could hear him pacing back and forth. Maybe if he just lay there very quietly, the Guardian would get bored and go away.

In retrospect, that was an empty hope if there ever was one.

A cold hand lifted the collar of his shirt and suddenly there was snow shoved down his back. Pitch yelped and recoiled at the sudden chill, scrambling into a sitting position to glare daggers at Jack. "What is _wrong_ with you?!" he snarled.

"I figured it out! You're miffed because we didn't have the big showdown you set up with so much effort!" Jack crowed, grinning and bouncing from foot to foot. "You could've just said something, you know. I'm happy to oblige."

Pitch gaped at Jack for a moment. _That_ was what the boy had gathered from all this? Really? By the darkness, he was even more of an idiot than Pitch had originally thought.

A sudden snowball to the face drove even those thoughts out of Pitch's head. That was it. He had enough of this little brat. "I'm going to kill you!" Pitch shrieked, warm, welcome anger replacing all the other odd emotions that had been tormenting him.

Jack laughed. "That's the spirit!" He was abruptly cut off by a Hellhound leaping out of the darkness and driving him to the ground. After a brief scuffle, Jack managed to freeze the beast and bolt away, hotly pursued by Pitch and his hordes of nightmarish creatures.

Through the lair they charged and clashed, fighting tooth and nail to gain the upper hand. They shouted taunts and insults at each other and collected their own sets of bruises and scrapes. Snow and sand was spilled over the floor, shadows and ice wresting as the temperature dropped to a point where both their breaths came condensed and harsh and ragged.

The raw simplicity of the fight seemed to act to clear Pitch's head and calm his nerves. The adrenaline singing through his veins and the hot rush of the struggle soothed him, seemed to confirm that this was right. This was what he was made for, this was where he belonged.

He was just overthinking this. There was no reason why he should care if a Guardian had a misguided sense of trust in him. If anything, it would make his job easier.

And so what if he was fond of Jack? The boy was amusing, when he wasn't being infuriating, and useful. Besides, Pitch liked lots of things, for instance… well…

In any case, he liked plenty of things and that hadn't changed the fact that he was still the boogeyman. There was no reason why enjoying the mayhem he and Jack got up to had to change that either. He was the same as always.

And if Jack wanted to delude himself otherwise, well, that was his business. Clearly nothing Pitch could do would dissuade him from that foolishness.


	47. Injury

_Author's Note- Sorry guys, finals are coming up so updates are going to be a bit sparse for the next couple of weeks. Have another one of LittleMana's requests._

* * *

Pitch decided that Jack just waltzed into his lair far too nonchalantly. His home was supposed to be a place of dread and terror, yet the Guardian treated it as if it were some kind of public space, not even having the common courtesy to ask before invading someone else's property.

Well, he supposed none of the Guardians were very good at respecting other's living spaces, were they? Tooth's little nuisances and North were particularly known for creeping into people's houses. With such awful role models, it was no surprise that Jack was so rude as to come in without knocking. Well, that and the fact he seemed, on principle, to be opposed to manners in general.

Pitch ignored the fact that he was probably the one who broke into others' homes the most.

In any case, it was high time he did something about this situation.

He tested the tension in the tripwire he had strung across the entrance. Yes, this should work. Jack would blunder into it in his usual rush to make trouble for Pitch, and pull down the buckets.

Pitch wondered if the water would all freeze to Jack when it hit him. Probably. It would likely look ridiculous, too. Pitch smirked.

Maybe after Jack had to spend an hour snapping icicles off of himself, he'd take a little more care.

* * *

A sudden, startled yell alerted Pitch when Jack arrived. However, the noise was followed by a loud _clunk_ instead of the splashing sound he had anticipated. And then there was silence.

What?

Pitch blinked to the entrance to find Jack lying on the ground with a large chuck of ice on the ground next to his head. He'd frozen the water before it hit him and gotten brained with it, it looked like. Must have thought it was a Nightmare or Hellhound and acted without thinking. Not that he seemed to _ever_ do much thinking.

…Jack wasn't getting up.

"Jack?" Pitch went to stand next to the fallen spirit. "This isn't funny, you know."

No response.

Pitch frowned. "Jack!" he said more loudly, nudging the Guardian with one foot. Still nothing. He… wasn't faking? Pitch crouched down and held his hand near Jack's mouth. He felt a soft gust of frigid air pass over his fingers. Well, the boy was still breathing, at least. Good. Pitch let out a breath of his own that he hadn't known he was holding.

Now what was he supposed to do?

He couldn't very well dump him on North again, the oaf would never believe this story. Generally spirits were pretty resilient, surely Jack would be fine shortly, right?

Just leaving him here didn't seem quite right, though.

Snow tended to made Jack feel better, didn't it? And ice packs _were_ used for injuries normally. That was an easy enough solution.

A quick trip through the shadows and Pitch had found an appropriate snowdrift to stuff the Guardian in. He shoveled some snow on top of Jack.

Pitch didn't notice a little blur of green pass by, take note of what was happening, chirp in distress and rapidly flit off.

* * *

The boogeyman had finished covering Jack up until only his face was visible. Pitch paced back and forth nearby, glowering. He'd probably have to apologize when the Guardian woke up. Nevermind that _he_ wasn't the one who had frozen the water and gotten himself knocked out. But everyone seemed to think it was always his fault when something went wrong. Oh, kids having nightmares? Boogeyman. Someone attacking the Guardians? Boogeyman. Something haunting the old churchyard? Boogeyman.

…Okay, so he was responsible for all those things. But still! This time he actually wasn't to blame!

Ugh, why couldn't Jack wake up and let him get this over with? Waiting around was intolerably dull.

A sudden flash light and a soft jingling noise was barely enough warning to allow him to dive out of the way of a boomerang. "What have you done to Jack, you gallah?!" An anger-filled voice demanded.

The Guardians had arrived by way of snow globe.

...He took it back, dull was fine.

Pitch growled bared his teeth at the four. "I haven't done a thing, now piss off!"

"The mini fairy said that-" Tooth spotted Jack in the drift and darted forwards with a gasp.

"Don't touch him!" Pitch snarled, and a Nightmare charged out of the darkness to knock Tooth aside. More creatures formed out of the shadows around the boogeyman. He stepped between the Guardians and Jack, glaring poisonously at them. "Leave."

"Not a chance, Pitch!" Bunnymund yelled, hurling another boomerang.

Pitch whipped out his scythe and used it to block the other weapon. "Fine, if it's a fight you want…" he hissed, eyes narrowing.

* * *

Jack slowly regained consciousness. The first thing he became aware of was that it was incredibly loud. What sort of rude people were making so much noise when he was trying to sleep? What was going on, were they waging a war outside of his snowdrift?

He grumpily sat up, displacing the snow on top of him and rubbing his eyes. Opening them again allowed him to take in the sight of the Guardians and Pitch and hordes of Nightmares rampaging through the area.

Oh, so they _were_ waging a war.

Wait, what? Why?

"Uh… Guys?" Jack started, but he must have been drowned out by all the yelling and clashing because no one seemed to pay attention to him. Jack sighed and fished his staff out of the snow. Slamming it against the ground produced enough of a gale that everyone paused. "I'm out of things for a few minutes and you all decide that it's time to try to kill each other?! Really?" he exclaimed.

"Jack, you're okay!" everyone (except Sandy) said in unison. Then the boogeyman and the Guardians went back to glaring at each other.

"Of course I'm okay, why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, we thought-" Tooth started to say.

"You took a blow to the head," Pitch supplied. He met the stares of the Guardians and added, "Which _wasn't_ my fault. And then they decided to attack me."

"You were the one who attacked us!" Tooth replied angrily.

"I don't care who started it!" Jack snapped. "I'm tired, my head hurts and you are all being dumb about this! Now, you are going to stop fighting and go home."

"But-" North started.

"No buts! Go!"

Pitch was looking positively gleeful to see Jack yelling at the Guardians. He shot a gloating look at them before Jack rounded on him.

"I haven't forgotten how I got into this position, Pitch! Don't do that again! Now go away and think about what you've done!"

The boogeyman seemed to wilt under Jack's glare. He motioned to his creatures and slunk back into the shadows. Before he vanished, he muttered something that might possibly have been something along the lines of 'sorry'.

The Guardians all stood speechless for a moment, gazes flicking between the spot where Pitch had vanished and where Jack was standing with his arms crossed, looking irritated.

"…But you're sure you're all right, Jack?" Tooth finally asked softly.

"Yeah, fine, nothing that a bit more of a nap can't fix." Jack said, seeming to deflate a little and giving the fairy a smile. "But I'd appreciate some quiet. I'll drop by later to visit, so you guys can relax."


	48. Thanksgiving

Jack had long since learned that if he wanted to have any sort of serious conversation with Pitch without the boogeyman scampering off, he had to come at things very carefully, like he was approaching a skittish deer.

It also helped if Pitch was tired, then his guard was down more.

Honestly, this friendship was probably one of the weirdest for all the topics he had to dance around to avoid Pitch going into fits. How did the boogeyman get to be so touchy?

In any case, Jack was getting sick of constantly being the peacemaker between his pals and figured it was high time they came to some sort of agreement.

So one day, after they were both catching their breaths and brushing off snow and sand following one of their frequent playful scuffles, he decided to broach the topic. "…So, there's gonna be a dinner-party-thing at the Pole this Thanksgiving. North thinks we should have more bonding time or something, and that's a holiday none of us have to worry about too much."

"Indeed. Dinner with all the Guardians? That is simply _fascinating_ news, Jack. Thank you for sharing." Pitch deadpanned, picking ice out of his hair.

"I thought you might want to come, too?"

Pitch paused, then gave Jack an incredulous look. "Why would you _ever_ think that?"

Jack shrugged. "I dunno. I thought you could maybe talk civilly and get to know each other better. So that I don't have to worry about you being at each other's throats every other day?"

Pitch laughed at that. "You want to stop us from fighting by having us interact _more_? That seems rather contradictory."

"But you-"

"Still want to see them fall off the face of the earth," Pitch said flatly. "And I imagine they feel the same way about me. Honestly, I can't imagine why they would ever extend an invitation to…" He trailed off, seeming to consider something. "They don't know that you're inviting me, do they?"

"Er, well… No?" Jack replied.

Pitch smiled wryly. "Do you really think it would turn out well if I just turned up there, Jack? They'd all have a _fit_."

"I'd be able to talk them around, I'm sure."

"As much as I enjoy watching you argue with the rest of those twits, I have no interest in sitting down at the same table as them unless I have the opportunity to lace all their drinks with arsenic first. And I somehow doubt that's what you're suggesting."

"Nothing I can do to convince you?"

"If you've somehow made the mistaken assumption that you can _ever_ tell me what I should or should not do, allow me to divest you of that illusion. I am the Nightmare _King_, not someone you can order around."

"But you listened to me when I woke-"

"We agreed to never speak of that again," Pitch said, eyes narrowing.

"Actually, I'm pretty sure you just showed up a day after that to yell about how you had suddenly remembered having urgent business that had absolutely nothing to do with me telling you off like a misbehaving child, and then you dumped a raspberry-flavoured slushie on me. I don't remember coming to an agreement at all…" Jack trailed off as Pitch started making a hissing noise like air slowly escaping from a balloon. He sighed. "Fine. You can't blame a guy for trying."

"Actually, I most certainly can blame you. Or at least judge you or having such a spectacularly dimwitted idea," Pitch replied, folding his arms and looking disdainfully down his nose at Jack.

"_You're_ the dimwit," Jack grumbled.

"Yes, clearly that is the comeback of the party with superior mental faculties," Pitch said with a smirk.

"Oh, what was that? Did I hear you say 'Please pummel me with snowballs, Jack'?" the Guardian asked, cupping a hand to his ear.

"Hard of hearing as well as pea-brained? My, life must be difficult for you," Pitch cackled, ducking out of the path of a hurled handful of snow.

"Get back here!" Jack yelled, scooping up more ammunition as Pitch hopped on the back of a Nightmare and dashed off.

* * *

In hindsight, it was probably for the best that he couldn't talk Pitch into coming. As much as Jack would like to fantasize that they'd be able to set their differences aside for a little while, it was far more likely that it would just make everything awkward and tense, and he really didn't spend enough quality time with the Guardians as it was.

The get together went really well, all things considered. They'd decided to work together to make the meal. Sandy and North tackled the turkey, and Jack, Bunnymund, and Tooth took care of the side dishes, the decorations, and the desserts. Tooth and Bunny got into their usual argument about chocolate and its dangers to teeth, and Jack may have decided to start a snowball fight to get their minds off of it and accidentally re-frozen the turkey just before North and Sandy got it into the oven. The elves made off with half of the cooking implements and started making a very precarious-looking fort underneath the kitchen table. Sandy ate all of the cranberry sauce before anyone could stop him, and Tooth's mini fairies somehow decided that the mashed potatoes were intended as ammunition for a food fight.

The yetis had to intercede to prevent a complete disaster, and grumpily ejected everyone else from the kitchen.

After they had all stopped laughing uproariously, the Guardians settled down at the dining table to swap stories and catch everyone up on what they had been up to.

"-So then I said, 'That's not a snowball, that's the cat!'" Jack finished as the rest of the group chuckled.

"…So, it's thanksgiving, right? Maybe we should say what we're thankful for. I'll start. I'm thankful for dentists! Oh, and floss! You have no idea how much better the teeth are now that those are commonplace." Tooth gushed happily.

"Yeah, big surprise there, Tooth. I'm thankful for how life always brings new chances and opportunities," Bunnymund replied, raising his glass.

Images of delicious-looking food danced over Sandy's head.

"For the children!" North said energetically, bringing his hand down on the table for emphasis.

"I'm thankful for all of you," Jack said with a warm smile.

"And I'm thankful that North's security measures are still completely laughable," a bored voice drawled. Pitch stepped out of the shadows, surveying the gathering with an unimpressed expression. "Though not _too_ thankful, since it means that I can be subjected to this kind of saccharine pap."

"Pitch!" The Guardians scrambled for their weapons.

Jack just grinned. "You came."

Pitch gave the frost spirit a razor-thin smile. "That I did," he said, and before the other Guardians could act to stop him, he grabbed Jack by the sleeve and the both of them vanished into the shadows.

Jack opened his eyes back in Pitch's gloomy lair. He looked around in confusion. "Pitch, why did you kidnap me?"

"You invited me to spend time with you on Thanksgiving. I decided that I would take you up on your offer," Pitch replied innocently.

"But I meant that with the other guys too!"

"Oh, but I don't like to share, Jack." Pitch replied, examining his fingernails. "Though I wouldn't worry too much about them. No doubt they'll arrive shortly to try to rescue you from my clutches."

"But- I- You- This is the exact opposite of what I wanted, Pitch!" Jack exclaimed, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

"Oh you poor thing. My black heart bleeds for you, really it does." A cheshire-wide grin spread over his face as a portal opened up nearby. "Right on time."

"Give Jack back!" Tooth yelled as she zipped through the portal. The others were right behind her.

"Never! He's mine now, ahahahaha!" Pitch cackled, grabbing Jack by the back of his hoodie and dragging him off down a twisting corridor.

The Guardians tried to pursue him, but were brought up short by a sudden avalanche of black and purple beach balls raining down on them.

"Pitch, what are you doing?" Jack demanded, just catching a glimpse of the event before he was pulled around a corner and out of sight.

"Do you really think that I wouldn't set up a few booby traps in anticipation of the Guardians' visit?" Pitch asked with a smile.

"Okay, _why_ are you doing this?"

"Why not? What's the matter Jack, afraid to have a little fun?" the boogeyman released him and stepped back. "Well, you've still got your staff, don't you? If you don't like this, go on and stop me."

Jack glanced at his weapon, then back at Pitch. A slow smile spread over his face, and he raised the back of his hand to his forehead, throwing his head back. "Oh, no! I have been captured by the Nightmare King! Please, someone, anyone, help me!" he called down the hallway, where the sounds of the Guardians cursing and stumbling and scrambling over the balls could be heard.

"Finally, a proper reaction!" Pitch said, bringing his hands together with a clap. "Now, come along, prisoner, I think they're starting to catch up."

The two of them dashed off. And if Jack laid down several patches of slick ice behind them, well, it was only so that the Guardians would know in which direction Pitch had brought him against his will.


	49. Titles

_Author's note- Still struggling through finals, sigh. Have some silliness!_

* * *

It was early autumn, Jack didn't have much to do aside from frosting the ground in the morning and making sure the leaves on the trees had changed colours, and he was bored. It was sunset by now and the kids were all starting to head home now too.

He was just pondering whether or not he felt like going to pester Pitch when, conveniently out of the corner of his eye, he spotted movement down a shadowy alleyway.

Sure enough there was Pitch, lurking in the shadows and eyeing a set of houses pensively.

Jack grinned and sauntered over. "Hey there, what brings you to this neck of the woods?"

Pitch's eyes flicked to the Guardian. "You certainly have a talent for showing up wherever you're not wanted, don't you?"

"Oh, definitely. I like to think of it as my own personal superpower, in addition to the ice and stuff. 'Oh no, I must go, my annoyance senses are tingling!' " Jack replied with a cocky grin. "Also, I'm bored."

"I have a job to do, Frost." Pitch replied, rolling his eyes. "And it _doesn't_ involve babysitting you."

"I'm sure we can do something that's both fun and helps you fill your scaring quota for the night…" Jack snapped his fingers. "There's a theme park around here that should still be open for a few hours."

"And I should care about that because…?" Pitch asked flatly.

"Well, there's a bunch of rumors going around that the horror-themed section of it is haunted. And I thought-"

"What better way to pass the time than to make it _actually_ haunted?" Pitch finished.

"Exactly."

A faint smirk crossed the boogeyman's mouth. "Well, what are we waiting for?" He quirked his fingers and shadows started to rise up around them. Jack hopped out of their grasp, though. Pitch looked at him questioningly.

"You know, I'm kind of sick of always travelling _your _way, Pitch." Jack said.

"Well, what do you suggest, then…" Pitch started to ask, but trailed off when he noticed the ever-widening grin spreading across the Guardian's face. "Oh no. No. Absolutely not. I refuse."

"Oh, come on, Pitch," Jack wheedled. "It'll be fun. I think I'm more qualified than most to claim that."

"Jack, do you recall what happened the last time you dragged me off into the sky? Because I would be more than happy to give a repeat performance," Pitch growled, eyes narrowing.

"Psh, there isn't enough snow around here to do that again."

"I can improvise," he promised darkly.

There was a moment's tense pause as the two of them stared each other down with the same intensity usually reserved for gunslingers facing each other down at high noon.

Then there was a sudden rush of movement as Jack leapt forwards and Pitch threw up a wave of nightmare sand. By the time the smoke cleared Jack found himself facing down a snorting Nightmare as the boogeyman dashed down an alleyway and around the corner.

"Pitch, come back you coward!" Jack yelled, blasting the Nightmare with ice.

"No!"

"I know where you live!"

"Then I won't go back there, hah!"

Jack grumbled and shot off after Pitch. He found himself at a small park with no sign of Pitch to be found. He sighed and wondered if the guy was just lurking in the shadows nearby or if he had scampered off.

There was a kid still at the park who was gathering up some knickknacks into a backpack and looked to be about ready to head home. Maybe he had seen where Pitch had went. Jack strode over, hoping that he could see him.

"Hey, kid, I don't suppose you saw the boogeyman run by, did ya?" Jack asked,

The kid grinned up at the Guardian. Great, he could see him. It was still a bit of a thrill every time that happened. "Jack Frost!"

"Yep, that's me!" Jack said with a grin. "It's nice to meet you. It's a bit late today, and you should be heading home, but how's about I drop by tomorrow and we can play?"

"Yeah!" the boy beamed, before a quizzical expression passed over his face. "But, uh, who's the boogeyman?"

"What? You haven't heard of him? You know, sort of grey guy, tall, dark and scary? He likes to hide under beds and in closets?"

"…What's so scary about a man who's named for a dance?"

"A dance?"

"Yeah, the boogie. It's an old person dance. My parents do it. You're telling me there's a man who dances in my closet? That's weird." the kid said, his nose wrinkling.

"Um, well, I'm not sure Pitch is much of a dancer-" Jack suddenly stopped, recalling being told about Pitch's little display on North's globe. He choked on the wave of laughter caused by revisiting that particular mental image. "Pfft-! Or maybe he is. Haha, the boogie man." He snickered.

"Alright, mister. You're a little weird, but I like you." The kid patted his arm reassuringly. "See you tomorrow, okay?"

"Yeah, will do. Thanks, kid." Jack managed to say, ruffling the boy's hair. The kid headed off home, and Jack fell against tree to laugh some more.

Eventually there was a voice from the shadows nearby. "…You're terrible at hide and seek, Jack."

"I'm sorry, I can't! It's just… you, dancing, hahaha! The boogie man! The name fits so perfectly!"

"There is _nothing_ wrong with dancing! It's a perfectly legitimate form of expression!" Pitch said with a scowl, folding his arms.

"Yeah, but it's not exactly what you'd call intimidating…"

"I don't- Not everything I do has to be- It's not like- Rrrh!" Pitch snapped incoherently. "I have better things to do than this!" With that last petulant remark, he vanished back into the shadows, leaving Jack to giggle to himself.


	50. Pastime

_Author's Note- Whoo, 50 chapters! I feel like I should do something special but, naw. Here's Pitch delighting in more aspects of his job instead._

* * *

Pitch had, at first, resented people who looked to fear as a way to be entertained, as some kind of thrill to indulge in. It chafed him, to see people abuse fear in such a way. These people thought that terror was some kind of a game?

There was no fun in scaring someone if they _wanted_ to be scared, he had thought.

Of course, that had been during the Dark Ages, when he was in power and fear as a form of entertainment wasn't very common; people had enough proper horror in their lives.

And after the Guardians had overthrown him, well, hardly anyone could see or interact with him anyway, so even if he had wanted to indulge the thrill-seekers, he couldn't.

He hadn't wanted to, anyway. He'd been far too preoccupied plotting his revenge and rise to power once more.

Of course, that had been a bust too. He wasn't sure why he was surprised, it seemed like everything in his existence was just an endless parade of plans blowing up in his face.

So when the option was finally brought up once more, he'd been too dispirited to muster up indignation. What could it hurt, right? He was already as low as he'd ever been.

And he found out he had been wrong. Terror _was_ a game. An incredibly enjoyable one, one he was very good at. Finally, something he could win.

Recently, now that his name was widespread once more, he'd found a new favorite pastime.

Finding the people who curled up alone with horror stories, or movies, or online creepypasta, and having a little bit of fun. They liked a good scare, clearly, and he was more than happy to oblige.

Sometimes he would take a more subtle approach. Make a few creaks or footsteps sound from an attic that _should_ be empty. Maybe a faint scratching noise at a window. Make the lights flicker. Did the shadows move out of the corner of their eyes, or was it just their minds playing tricks on them? Could… could they hear something _breathing _in the closet off to their right?

Other times he would make his presence known a little bit more. If they were in a room with a closed door, he'd rattle the handle. That always got a couple good shrieks. Or he'd wait outside the window, corporeal this time, and wait for them to notice his eyes on them. Letting his shadow fall across the wall that they were facing, but vanishing when they turned around to see what cast it. Maybe he'd make some sounds that couldn't be explained away as the house settling or a branch scraping on a window. Whispering their name from the other room, or from outside. A choked, gurgling rasp and the sound of _something_ being slowly dragged across the floor.

There were even a few of his unwitting playmates that he felt needed a bit more of a fright. The cynical ones, mainly, the ones that read the tales as if to prove they weren't afraid, the ones that laughed and pointed out inconsistencies and improbabilities in the stories.

Those ones faded in and out of their belief in the creatures of the night. Usually there was just a little flicker, brought on by a tale that struck a particular chord and sent a chill up their spine before they had time to throw up a shield of logic and reason. Just a moment or two where they thought '_maybe'_…

He loved happening across those little windows of opportunity.

Typically, he'd curl one of his hands around their throat. Gently, of course, he'd hate to harm one of his believers, even the flighty ones. It was only a game, after all. He didn't cut off their airways, his hand was mainly just there so that he could _feel_ their breaths catch in their throat and their pulse spike under his palm as he leaned down to hiss a 'hello' in their ears.

He never got tired of the screams.


	51. Retrieval

_Author's Note- Sorry for the long wait, guys. I'm going to try to transition back to a faster update schedule now, though. Some folks asked for a continuation of Chapter 48- Thanksgiving, so here you go!_

* * *

After an hour of stumbling through what appeared to be a series of increasingly ridiculous traps, the Guardians decided that Pitch clearly had way too much time on his hands. Granted, immortality did tend to lend itself to copious amounts of time to pursue one's interests, but he _was_ the boogeyman. Wasn't he supposed to be haunting the shadowy places under children's beds and whatnot? When on earth did he find time to construct dozens of Rube Goldberg style devices that, among other things, released swarms of cockroaches or launched dozens of water balloons at them?

And the "at least he's not trying to kill anyone" argument only held off frustration and irritation for so long.

For Bunnymund, the last straw was when several barrels of flour were upended over them all, turning the Guardians all white as ghosts. And, of course, since they weren't all fully dry from the water balloon incident, an unpleasant sort of sticky paste was formed and turned out to be incredibly difficult to wipe off, especially out of fur.

"Tell me why we're doing this again?" Bunnymund growled, working a stubborn bit out of his ear.

"Well, we need to get Jack back…" Tooth replied resolutely, though she looked almost as bedraggled as the Easter Guardian.

"What for? It's not like Pitch is gonna hurt the show pony! He would've done that already!" Bunnymund exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation.

"Oh my, you're seriously suggesting that the Guardians abandon one of their own in the clutches of the Nightmare King? Are you sure you're cut out for this job, rabbit?" Pitch drawled, stepping out of the shadows nearby with a grin.

"Pitch!" Bunnymund snarled, hurling a boomerang at the boogeyman.

Pitch cackled and melted back into the darkness. "Foiled by a few simple parlor tricks, tsk, tsk. You really are quite pathetic, you know."

"Last time I checked, you lost to us. What does that say about you, Pitch?" North asked calmly, combing some of the muck out of his beard with his fingers.

A dark hiss rang out through the caverns of the lair, and the boogeyman reappeared on a set of stairs nearby, yellow eyes flashing in the darkness. He bared his teeth in a mockery of a smile. "Clearly it means I'm not trying hard enough." He lifted a small object in both hands and aimed it at the Guardians. "So, say hello to my little friend."

For an instant, a bright, searing flash cut through the gloom of the lair.

There was a moment where the Guardians were unable to do anything but blink the spots out of their eyes. Then, just as their vision started to clear, they heard Pitch chuckle. "Oh, I'm going to have to get this one framed," he said gleefully, looking down at the object in his hands.

"Is- Is that a camera?!" Tooth gasped, eyes widening. "You hand that over right now!" she demanded, lunging at Pitch.

"Oh, don't be so stingy, Toothiana! Not all of us can preserve memories in teeth like you do," Pitch said with a cackle, fading into the shadows an instant before the Tooth Fairy could lay hands on him. "And I just want to preserve this precious moment for posterity!"

"You're evil!" she screeched.

"I thought we'd already established that, my dear. Still want to give up our little competition and leave Jack to me?" Pitch asked, springing out of the shadows at the far end of the cavern, this time with Jack in tow. The frost spirit had a thin cord of nightmare sand wrapped around his wrists.

"Oh, please don't leave me here." Jack deadpanned. "You have no idea what kind of tortures I have been submitted to. I've had to listen to him talk at me for the last _hour_! It's been absolutely excruciating."

Pitch cast his eyes upwards and sighed. "That's the best you can do? You're the worst hostage ever."

"Hey, you're a pompous windbag. I'm pretty sure that the Geneva Convention forbids this kind of treatment."

"If they knew what an aggravating brat you are, I'm sure they'd encourage anything that would make you suffer," Pitch replied, glaring down at Jack.

"Sure, sure. Oh, and you might want to look out," Jack replied with a smirk.

"Wha-" A whip of dreamsand coiled around Pitch's wrist and yanked him sharply off of the parapet. "I was in the middle of talking, Sanderson! Rude!" Pitch snapped, dangling off of one of his bridges like a freshly-caught fish.

"If we waited for you to stop talking, would never get anything done," North replied in his typical jolly manner.

Tooth ferried Jack back to the group. Sandy gave Pitch a hard shake and the boogeyman, hissing, snapped his fingers and Jack's staff dropped out of the darkness and onto the Guardian's head. "Ow!" Jack muttered. The nightmare sand around his wrists dissolved too, though the wisp had barely looked strong enough to restrain Jack in any real way.

"Are you alright, Jack? Why would Pitch kidnap you today?" Tooth asked.

Jack picked up his staff and rubbed the back of his head embarrassedly. "Er, well, I may have kind of invited him, heh."

"You what?!" Bunnymund exclaimed.

"I didn't ask him to do _this_! I just invited him to spend Thanksgiving with us."

"That's an even worse idea! Why would anyone want _him_ around?"

"I can hear you, you know," a sulky voice echoed from off of the bridge.

"Come on, wasn't this fun and exciting? Even just a little bit?" Jack asked.

The Guardians looked down at their bedraggled states pointedly, then back at Jack.

"We need to have discussion about what is appropriate fun, Jack," North said, tossing a snowglobe down and grabbing Jack by the ear.

"Ow, hey! What? Wait, no!" Jack protested as he was towed off towards the portal. "I don't need another lecture!"

"Pretty sure you do, mate," Bunnymund replied heartlessly.

"No, not that!" Jack cried. "Pitch, Pitch, help me!"

"Can't. A little tied up right now, remember?" Pitch replied, a smug tone in his voice.

"Pitch!" Jack called out once more, desperately, before the whole group stepped through the portal and vanished.

The boogeyman eventually managed to free himself and reclined on the stone steps, grinning. Oh, _that_ was fun. He really did so enjoy causing trouble. And the Guardians had even forgotten to take the camera away from him. He chuckled. Yes, today had been a good day.


	52. Attempt

Jack held up his hands placatingly, flashing one of his most brilliant smiles. "Alright, I know we haven't exactly been the best of pals or anything, and we've had our differences and arguments, sure, but I'm certain we can be reasonable about this!"

The Nightmare stared him down balefully and snorted, stamping a foot against the ground.

"Oh, come on, don't be like that! Just-" He leapt forward, and the creature danced out of his way. "-hold-" He made another failed lunge at the Nightmare. "-still!"

The monstrous horse let out a shrieking whinny and leapt right over Jack's head. When he whirled around to try to follow it, he wound up smacking face-first into Pitch's chest. He stumbled back a step, holding his hands up to his bruised nose. "Ow! Jeez, why are you so bony?" he asked with a wince, his voice sounding slightly more nasal than usual.

Pitch stared down at Jack, looking severely unimpressed. "Like you're one to talk. You're so scrawny that being tossed around by the _wind_ is your primary method of transportation and you're making a comment on _my_ figure?"

Jack shrugged. "Hey, I call 'em like I see 'em. Or feel them, in this case. I think I have an imprint of your ribcage on my face." He removed his hands from his nose and looked them over for blood. Okay, good, no nosebleed.

"I can hardly be blamed for your clumsiness," Pitch replied unsympathetically. The Nightmare peered over his shoulder at Jack, puffing air out of its nostrils. The boogeyman raised a hand to gently stroke the creature's nose. He gave it a fond smile before turning back to Jack, his friendly demeanor evaporating. "Now, care to explain why you're harassing one of my dear Nightmares?"

"I'm not doing anything bad, jeez. Why do people always jump to the worst conclusion with me?" Jack asked, shaking his head sadly.

"Hmmm." Pitch cocked his head to one side, raising his hand to his face to tap one finger against his cheek pensively. "Maybe it's because you're nothing but a troublemaker and a royal pain in the neck?" he replied archly.

"Your harsh words are like a knife in my heart, they really are," Jack said, clutching a hand to his chest. "And now I think it's my turn to say you're not really one to talk about being a troublemaker."

Pitch snorted. "Please, don't put us in the same league. _I _am a menace to society. _You_ are simply a nuisance. There's really quite a large difference, you know." He shrugged. "Though I suppose I can hardly expect _you_ to grasp the subtleties and nuances of such a complex concept, can I?"

"That's me! Uncultured swine extraordinaire!" Jack said with a theatrical bow, looking far too proud to be claiming such a title. "As for what I was up to..." His eyes flicked to the now-calmer Nightmare and a smirk flashed over his face. Quick as a flash, he leapt into the air, somersaulted over Pitch's head, and landed lightly on the back of the Nightmare. He fastened his arms around its neck and laughed gleefully as the creature whinnied in displeasure and tried to buck him off. "I've always wanted to try this!"

Pitch watched speechlessly for a moment while Jack clung to the Nightmare as it reared and kicked and charged around, trying to dislodge the Guardian from its back. "Nothing is sacred to you, is it?" Pitch finally groaned, gesturing exasperatedly.

"Course not!" Jack whooped. "C'mon, girl, you can do better than that!" He said to the Nightmare with a cheeky grin.

In response, the horse stopped where it was, currently halfway up a wall, and its head jerkily turned a full 180 degrees around to glare down at the boy.

"Huh, well, that's freaky-" Jack started to say, and was interrupted by the Nightmare rudely hocking a gob of sand-saliva all over his chest. "Guh!"

The Nightmare angrily snorted a hot breath into his face and promptly dissolved, causing Jack to flop down to the floor as his ride suddenly disappeared.

Pitch stepped over to stare disparagingly down at the Guardian, crossing his arms. "Now, did we learn anything from that?"

"Yeah. Your horses have _terrible_ manners." Jack replied, pulling himself up into a sitting position and wiping a hand over the mess on the front of his hoodie. "Bleck. Why is it sticky?"

"The Nightmare fed recently," Pitch replied with a shrug. "That's the fear of a mother for her child. It's a nasty, nagging sort of anxiety that makes people want to cling and hold and never let go."

"…You are so weird. So, what, do I need bleach or something? Does fear stain?"

"It can stain souls and minds," Pitch replied with a dark grin.

"Well, I don't think my shirt has a soul, and you can stop being theatrical, thanks."

Pitch rolled his eyes. "Natural sunlight should get rid of it. Tell me, why did you ever think it was a good idea to try to ride a Nightmare?"

"Well, you do it all the time, and I thought it might be fun."

"Ah, so you were being an idiot as usual. How enlightening," Pitch drawled, turning away and striding off.

"Hey, I got an idea! You teach me how to ride them and I'll teach you how to skate! What do you say?" Jack called to the retreating boogeyman, leaping to his feet.

Pitch paused and looked over his shoulder at Jack. "Tell me again which one of those things is supposed appeal to me in any way?"

"I think you'd enjoy both of them because it means you get to spend more time with _me_!" Jack replied with a grin, clasping his hands together and fluttering his eyelashes.

"That's supposed to be the _good _part of the deal, Jack? Really?" Pitch snorted. "You're a terrible negotiator."

"Hey, I am super persuasive!"

"Yes, yes, _of course_ you are. By all means, though, feel free to try to hitch a ride on more Nightmares. I'm certain that this scenario will not continue to repeat itself every time you make an attempt." Pitch smirked. "Maybe let me know ahead of time, though, so I can procure some popcorn to watch the show, hmm?"


	53. Laugh

"Hey Pitch, I've decided that you need to work on your laugh," Jack said one day.

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah, your laugh. I mean, you've got the maniacal cackling down to a science and your dark creepy chuckles are very well done too. Don't get me wrong. But I really think every villain needs to have a proper, deep, booming, menacing laugh and I don't think you've got that in your repertoire. At least, I've certainly never heard it and I really think that it could add something to your routine as the boogeyman."

Pitch gave Jack an unimpressed look. "You've been having too many movie nights with your squadrons of brats, haven't you?"

"All I'm saying is that I think you could stand to pick up a few new techniques."

"I have been doing this for millennia, Jack. I'm pretty sure I know what I'm doing by this point."

"Well, all the more reason to switch it up a bit, you know. Keep things fresh. Isn't surprise one of the key elements of fear, after all?"

Pitch sighed. "Jack. You are quite possibly one of the least intimidating things in existence. You're the Guardian of _fun. _I really don't understand why you would ever think that you're able to give me pointers on my job. Or why you would ever _want_ to."

"Well, you know what they say, 'Out of the mouths of babes…'"

"In my experience the only thing that comes out of the mouths of children is idiocy."

"Well there you go. If the kids are able to say silly things then clearly they are not terrified enough by your presence and you need to make some improvements," Jack said with a proud grin, clearly thinking that he was winning the argument.

"You exist simply to aggravate me, don't you?" Pitch said exasperatedly, dragging a hand down his face.

"You're just catching onto that now? Of course I'm just here to make you suffer. That's what sworn enemies are supposed to do," Jack said with a grin. "Now come on, how about we try one of those neat escalating laughs? You know, the 'heh heh heh hah hah MUAHAHAHA!'" Jack threw back head and splayed out his hands as he laughed, a burst of frost exploding behind him to highlight the gesture.

Pitch smirked. "You're pretty good at that. Really, you're _wasted_ as a hero."

"Oh I know. But, hey, what can you do? Guardianship's a lifetime gig." Jack replied with a casual shrug. "Now, your turn."

"I can't just laugh on command, Jack. It needs to come naturally."

Pitch only had an instant to regret what he said when Jack's eyes lit up, and then there was snow being hurled at him.

The snowballs burst when it struck his chest and he blinked blue pinpricks of light out of his eyes even as he felt a rising, giddy sort of glee wash over him. A smile tugged at his lips and a chuckle worked its way out of his throat. He felt _good. _Like he had just finished terrifying a dozen children.

"That's the spirit! Now, come on, let's work on that laugh, huh?"

Pitch grinned. "Oh, I have a _far_ better idea."

The darkness wrapped around the both of them and Jack abruptly found himself in an unfamiliar and dimly-lit area. "Where are we?"

Pitch's smile gleamed in the darkness. "A zoo. The insect exhibit, to be precise. And the reptile exhibit is right that way. I've always loved this layout, so many things that people get unsettled about in one place."

Jack uneasily shifted away from the wall of glass enclosures he could now make out as his vision adjusted to the darkness. "…Okay, and why are we here?"

"Because I've always wanted to do this!" Pitch cackled gleefully and raised his hands, shadows springing up all around them. A tendril of nightmare sand slipped through each lock and the cages sprang open, one after another. "Be free my pretties!"

"Pitch NO!" Jack shrieked, leaping eight feet in the air to cling to the ceiling as all manner of creepy and crawly things started to emerge and swarm across the floor.

The boogeyman stood happily in the middle of the chaos, completely unbothered by the creatures that were slithering, skittering, or crawling over his feet and robes. He actually looked positively ecstatic, reaching out to stroke and coo happily at them. "Yes, you are positively delightful, my dears…"

Jack tried to contain his panic and failed. This was too much for him. He really, really hated bugs and _they were everywhere_. Out out _out_, he had to get out. His eyes landed on an air duct and he scrambled into it, the wind pushing him quickly through the enclosed space until he found his way to the exit of the building and burst into the cool night air with a shudder. He rubbed his hands over his arms again and again, the wind swirling around him viciously until he was absolutely certain that he didn't have any of Pitch's little friends hitching a ride on him. His skin was still crawling.

He made a mental note to _never_ do that again. The boogeyman's idea of fun was apparently quite a bit different from everyone else's.


	54. Aid

_Author's Note- Well, some people wanted more dramatic stuff, so here you go. Kinda._

* * *

Nightmares and fears weren't the only things that the Guardians had to contend with.

Probably one of their least favorite kinds of things to deal with were the things that were causing trouble at the moment. They went by many names, Daemons, Vices, Qareen, etcetera. Essentially they were amalgamations of the collective negative emotions within the human heart, things that sowed misery and discord wherever they settled.

A well known type was Jealousy, the green-eyed monster. Others inspired rage, hatred, apathy, anxiety, callousness, greed, selfishness, paranoia and distrust, settling onto the back or shoulder of their victims and pouring poison into their souls.

The Guardians _hated_ the creatures because not only did they cause children distress, they tended to actively encourage children to hurt others and themselves. It was utterly terrible to see their charges inflicting pain on one another, and the Guardians tried to intervene in that behavior as much as they could.

For the most part, these creatures were scattered, relatively few in numbers, and could be warded off with generous helpings of hope and wonder and fun, things to lift their spirits and allow them to shake off the negativity.

Occasionally, however, an exceptionally large gathering of them would form, and the outpouring of unhappiness would only keep drawing more and more of the terrible things to the area, and the Guardians would need to step in and battle the daemons directly.

They weren't doing too well in the battle at the moment; they'd rushed ahead recklessly and wound up being ambushed by an entire horde of the things.

Jack had found himself separated from the rest of the group by a particularly nasty bunch of despair spirits. Keeping them at bay with his frost wasn't that difficult, but he couldn't see everywhere and there were a _lot _of them. As he threw out a wave of ice to repel the creatures, something slammed into him from behind and sent him sprawling to the ground.

He barely had time to roll over and see a greed spirit leaping at him, rows of teeth and claws bared in a feral threat.

He flinched, squeezing his eyes shut and throwing his hands up to protect himself. Those claws were viciously sharp, this was going to _hurt_-

And suddenly there was a hand gripping his shoulder and he was _falling_.

He landed on a chill, rough stone floor with a grunt. There was a moment of frantic disorientation as his eyes snapped open and he clutched his staff, nervous energy singing through him. He was in the middle of a fight, there was danger and he had to-

Jack finally realized where he was when his eyes fell on the cages hanging all around him, recognized the dark, shadowy gloom all around him. Pitch's lair. He let out a shaky breath, mildly disturbed to realize that this place was almost comforting to him now. Well, he'd visited often enough over the years that he knew it as well as the Workshop or the Tooth Palace or the Warren by now. It was practically a second home to him now, and wasn't _that_ a bizarre thought to have.

"I'm starting to think that you are utterly incapable of staying out of harm's way, Frost." The boogeyman was abruptly looming over him, arms crossed and a scowl across his face.

"Well, trouble is my middle name, you know," Jack replied with a cheeky grin, feeling some of the jitters start to leave him. "Did you just rescue me, Pitch?"

"No, I merely decided that I desperately needed you to come have a _tea party_ with me this very instant. What do you think?" Pitch replied scathingly, rolling his eyes.

"Well, thanks for that!" Jack hopped to his feet and rolled his shoulders. "I think I'm ready to get back into it now though. Send me back."

Pitch's eyes narrowed in the typically affronted way they did whenever Jack told him to do _anything_. Then he faltered for an instant, a thought seeming to occur to him. He raised one hand to his chin and tilted his head to the side, a pensive expression crossing his face. "And what if I say no, Jack?"

"What?"

A razor thin smile crept over the boogeyman's face, his eyes glittering with malice. "I could keep you here, you know. Delay you, make you miss the fight. Who knows _what_ might happen to the others if you're out of the picture?" His voice was soft and low, almost a purr. He started to stalk slowly towards Jack. "You could wind up being _too late _to help your friends again, just like the good old days…"

Jack stood his ground, meeting the boogeyman's gaze steadily. He crossed his arms and raised one eyebrow.

Pitch's smile faded in the face of Jack's reaction. There was one long moment where he stared at Jack silently, fingers drumming a restless beat against his own bicep. Faint expressions flickered across his face, there and gone so quickly they were barely noticeable, just a trace of a crease over his brow or a shift of muscles over the jawline as Pitch gritted his teeth.

Finally his lips curled into a snarl, and he snapped his eyes off Jack to stare angrily off at a wall off to his left. "Well, _I'm_ not sending you back. Go there using _your_ method of transportation. You like that better anyway, don't you? Now get out before I change my mind," he growled.

Jack sighed. He supposed that was the best he was going to get out of Pitch right now. "Aye, aye, cap'n," he said lightheartedly, giving a little mock salute with his staff. He floated off the ground and was about to zip off when a thought occurred to him. "You know, we _could_ use some help."

"Was that a request, Frost? You might want to think better of that. If anything, I should be tossing my lot in with the daemons."

"Please," the word was quiet, barely more than a whisper, but the effect it had on the boogeyman was electrifying.

* * *

"This ain't looking good! We might have to fall back!" Bunnymund shouted, grabbing his last four egg bombs from their holster and kicking out with one powerful leg to send a daemon sprawling.

"Has anyone seen Jack?" Tooth asked somewhat frantically, pausing in her aerial maneuvers to scan the battlefield.

"Not since the last wave!" North exclaimed as he sliced through an enemy and backhanded another one with the hilt of his sabre.

Tooth raised her hands to her mouth in worry. "You don't think he-"

"My, my. You lot really are in a bit of trouble, aren't you?" A smug drawl echoed from around them as yellow eyes and a gleaming grin winked into existence in a nearby patch of shadows.

"We don't have time to deal with you, Pitch!" Bunnymund snapped.

"Oh, but I really think you should make time. You seem to need reminding of who exactly is supposed to be your nemesis, rabbit." Nightmares rose from the shadows all around them.

The Guardians' expressions became grim and they readied their weapons. The Nightmares paused, though, and looked back to Pitch. He nodded and cast his hand forwards. The creatures whinnied and charged into battle, crashing into the daemon's ranks like a tidal wave.

There was a moment of stunned silence from the Guardians.

Pitch's gaze flickered to them and a faint smirk crossed his face. "Oh, don't get used to this. You can thank your newest member, he just put himself in one _whopper_ of a debt to me for this." He paused. "Speaking of which…"

Jack tumbled out of the shadows with a yelp. "You can never make anything easy, can you?" he demanded, clambering to his feet and glowering at Pitch.

"Never," Pitch replied, his grin widening. His gaze flicked back to the Guardians, who still seemed to be processing this development. "Now, do I have to win the entire battle myself?"


	55. Debt

When the battle had been won and the daemons had been dispersed once more, the Guardians gathered together to check over each other for wounds and congratulate themselves on a job well done. It took mere moments for Pitch to consolidate his Nightmare hordes once more and he darkly strode up to the group, causing the friendly banter to grind to a halt.

"I see that you all made it through the fight unscathed. How unfortunate. I'll be discussing repayment with Jack now," he said in a clipped voice, grabbing the frost spirit by the hood and dragging him off into the shadows.

"Not wasting any time, are we?" Jack asked, back in the lair once more. Travelling through the shadows so much in one day was starting to make him feel a little dizzy.

"I don't see any reason why we should put this off and allow the debt to be forgotten in that snow-filled brain of yours."

"You always do know how to say the most flattering things, don't you?" Jack shrugged and slung his staff over his shoulder. "So, what do you want?"

"Oh Jack, I thought that would be obvious. I want you to stop being a Guardian. That would really make my day," Pitch replied with a lazy grin, idly swirling a thread of nightmare sand around his fingers.

"Yeah, that isn't gonna happen," Jack retorted, crossing his arms.

Pitch sighed and shrugged. "Well, I can always hope that one day you might actually see reason. Can I ask you to set aside the mantle for just one evening, then?"

"What are you planning on doing, Pitch?"

"Oh, it's not what I'll be doing. It's what _you_ will be doing." Pitch replied, his smile wide and sharp. "I'm a little tired of being the only bad guy on Halloween."

"You want me to scare the kids with you?"

"That's the plan. You're already kind of undead, I'm sure that with a little bit of effort you could end up looking like a right horror. Besides, I'm curious about what it would be like for us to both be on the same team for once."

"I-" _I thought we already were. _Jack swallowed that statement before it could pass his lips. That was one of those things that would put Pitch on the defensive, Jack knew. And he didn't particularly feel like sitting through another one of the boogeyman's rants. "I don't know, Pitch…"

"I didn't know you were so ungrateful, Jack. I assisted my sworn enemies in battle because _you_ asked me to, and you hesitate to even do something as harmless as scaring children who _want_ to be scared?" Pitch spat, eyes narrowing.

Jack felt a twinge of something akin to guilt. "Um…"

Pitch closed his eyes and turned away. "Go back to your friends then, Jack. Apparently I ask too much. …I'm sure I could have wrangled one of my Nightmares into giving you a ride for the occasion, too. Unfortunate," he sighed and started to stride off.

"Whoa, hey, what?" Jack leapt forward and grabbed Pitch's sleeve. "Hold up a second there, did you say riding Nightmar-" He paused when he saw the grin flash over Pitch's face. "You're doing this to manipulate me!"

"Well, it's working, isn't it?"

"…One night, Pitch. Just this Halloween, you hear?"

"Of course."

* * *

The Guardians had been concerned about what sort of debt the boogeyman was calling in when Jack returned.

Jack just waved them off. "It's nothing to worry about." He thought that they might be less than enthusiastic if he told them he'd be spending an evening terrifying kids, and he _did_ owe Pitch.

* * *

"Stop struggling!"

"But it feels weird, Pitch! Do we have to do this?"

"Yes, now shut up. You owe me one, remember?" Pitch snapped. He reached forward to apply more stage makeup to Jack's face and somehow managed to jab the Guardian in the eye with the applicator brush.

"Ow! You did that on purpose!" Jack exclaimed, jerking backwards and rubbing the heel of his hand against his sore eye.

"If you weren't squirming, maybe it wouldn't have happened!"

"Can't you, like, do some kind of appearance spell with your shadows? Why do we need this goop?"

"I can disguise myself, but I've never tried it with someone else and I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be able to maintain the illusion if you were out of sight. This will do a better job, and I'm extremely familiar with the techniques and tricks that are used for horror movies and whatnot. They're simply fascinating."

"I'm your guinea pig for experimenting with this stuff, aren't I?"

"Maybe. And stop whining. We haven't even gotten to the part with the prosthetics and the contact lenses yet."

"WHAT?!"

* * *

This Halloween, the Pitch Black Escape was being held in a dark and lonely forest, something the Guardians found out thanks to one of Tooth's mini-fairies stumbling across it. The group had decided that Jack being evasive about the debt meant that something was up and that they had better investigate quickly, just to make sure everything was alright.

They arrived at the edge of the woods and quickly proceeded towards the nearest sound of screaming. Soon enough, they had found something.

A small group of harried looking teens scrambled through the brush twenty feet ahead of the Guardians, dragging each other along and casting worried glances over their shoulders.

"You can run, but you can't hide!" a familiar voice rang out through the trees and a slim figure mounted on a Nightmare came swerving around the trees, laughing maniacally.

He was brandishing what looked like Jack's staff, though a vicious-looking blade had been placed over the crook. His skin was somehow even paler, with a sickly greenish pallor. There were sections of his flesh that looked like they were starting to rot away and his hair was mussed and matted with something that might have been dirt or dried blood. His clothes were black as night and tattered and stained.

He looked like a walking corpse.

"Jack?" North said in a disbelieving whisper.

The _thing_ that resembled Jack paused at the sound of North's voice and turned around, fixing them with unsettling , gleaming yellow eyes. It grinned, showing off a row of jagged teeth that glimmered like shards of broken glass.

At that sight Tooth shrieked and almost fainted. Sandy quickly floated over to support her.

"Jack, what did Pitch do to you?" Bunnymund asked in horror.

"It's pretty impressive, isn't it? Almost worth the pain of it all." Jack tugged on the Nightmare's reigns and it cantered up to the Guardians. He leaned across its neck, gazing down at the Guardians with the same creepy smile and idly tapping his staff against his ankle. "So what brings you here?"

"You didn't say what Pitch wanted you to do and we… Strewth, Jack, why didn't you tell us?" Bunnymund's ears drooped.

"Your beautiful teeth…" Tooth choked out, sounding near tears. Sandy patted her back reassuringly.

"We will find way to fix this, Jack." North said resolutely.

"What?" Jack's smile faded and a faint expression of confusion flitted over his gaunt face. Then his eyes widened in comprehension. "Ohhh. You guys think that I- that Pitch… Ahahahahaha!"

"Fight it, Jack!"

Jack paused in his laughing enough to gasp out, "There's nothing to fight, Bunny." He reached into his mouth and wriggled out one of the needle-sharp teeth, revealing the normal incisor below it. "It's all fake, see? Just a costume. No need to worry."

Tooth immediately flitted over to pry Jack's mouth open and peer worriedly into it. "Oh, thank goodness, they're alright."

"Ngah." Jack made a noise of protest and Tooth released him. "Just helping out Pitch a bit with his Halloween scaring is all, guys. Sorry to worry you."


	56. Novelty

There was _something _in the woods with them. Something hunting them. Something that made the temperature drop to near-freezing when it came near, something that _laughed_ as it lunged out of the darkness and dragged them away, one by one. Over half the group was gone now, and no one knew which one of them might be next. Every time their breaths misted in the air a thrill of terror shot down their spines.

The group was just passing through a cluster of evergreen trees when the sudden chill swept over them, frost rimming green needles with silver filigree. A soft chuckle reached their ears, carried on the breeze that curled around them, plucking at their clothes. The teenagers huddled together, back-to-back, clutching sticks and other makeshift weapons, hearts pounding as they tried to spot the threat that had come for them once again.

Soft, fluffy white flakes of snow drifted down to land on Erin, melting and running down the back of her shirt. She looked up to see a pair of glittering yellow eyes peering down at her from the branches above them, and the gleam of light along a blade that shone like starlight striking ice.

Razor-sharp teeth flashed in a predatory grin. "Hi there," it said.

"It's in the trees!" she screamed, and the group made a break for it as the thing swung off the branch and landed on the back of a horse as black as night, with glowing eyes. The teens scattered into the trees, all semblance of order lost at the appearance of the chilling creature.

Despite her best efforts, it seemed like the thing had decided on Erin and she only managed to sprint past a dozen trees and vault over one fallen log before there was ice crackling along the branches she passed. The monstrous horse pulled up alongside her. Its gaunt rider was grinning nearly from ear to ear, and the staff swung down in a glittering arc. Erin screamed.

The blade passed through her like it was made of mist, but the crook of the staff caught her around the waist and she abruptly found herself being yanked up onto the horse.

"Gotcha!" a gleeful voice rang out behind her and a chill ran through her as hands as cold as death wrapped around her shoulders. She felt the horse's muscles bunch beneath her as the creature sprang forward into a gallop, carrying them both away.

"NO! Let me go! Put me down!" she screeched, thrashing.

"Are you suuure about that, kid?" her captor asked, and leaned them both to one side of the monstrous horse so that she could look down and see the ground far, far below them. "I mean, I could if you really wanted me to but I'm not sure if you would like it that much…"

Erin squeaked and jerked backwards, away from the dizzying drop. "Where- Where are you taking me?"

The thing chuckled. "Where all the naughty children get dragged off to…"

Before she could say anything the horse suddenly plunged into a terrifying, breakneck dive. If she screamed the wind whipping past them tore the sounds away before they could reach her ears. Erin threw up her hands in an attempt to protect herself, squeezing her eyes shut and hunching her shoulders in anticipation of the moment when they would collide with the ground.

Instead, the sensation of falling smoothly stopped and she could hear dirt crunching under the horse's hooves once more. Was she still alive? It seemed like she was, though she did have a bit of difficulty remember how to breathe again after that.

"I got another one, Pitch!" the thing behind her called out. It didn't seem to be talking to her.

"Just one? You'd better pick up the pace, Frost. At this rate you won't be able to compete with me at all," another voice replied, low and dark and disdainful.

"Hey, gimme a break! This is my first time! I think I'm doing pretty well!" Erin heard the thing dismount, leaving her alone on the horse, and a cold hand tugged gently at her own. "Right, kid? I was scary, wasn't I?"

Erin cracked one eye open tentatively. She was in a clearing that was dimly lit by jack-o-lanterns and lamps that let off a soft yellow light. There were other kids all around, and she recognized several of the kids that had been a part of their group earlier, the ones that had been taken before she was. They smiled and waved.

The kidnapper himself was standing next to her, looking expectant.

"…yeah?" she said hesitantly.

"Yes! Go me!" he pumped a fist in the air excitedly, then gave a grin that seemed a little sheepish. "Er, I mean, sorry about that. Here, let's get you down."

Cold hands helped her swing down off of the huge horse, which snorted and cantered away once she was on the ground.

"It was a good try, though. Better luck next year, hey?"

"But… I…"

"Heh. Can't always judge on appearances, you know," the boy, who she could now see was a boy and not a monster like she had first thought, said with a wink. "Enjoy the party. I'm gonna go see if I can't get more of your friends over here." And with a whoop he had zipped off into the trees again.

* * *

It was getting pretty late by now and the woods had almost been cleared out of kids at this point.

Jack was heading back through the forest when he heard a muffled whimper off to his right. A kid, probably. All alone? Maybe he got lost.

Jack veered off in the direction of the sound and spotted a glimpse of a sneaker peeking out from between the gnarled roots of a huge tree. Striding closer to the spot let him make out the huddled shape of a kid, curled up in the hollow between the roots, with his eyes squeezed shut and his hands clapped over his mouth.

One of the younger kids in the Escape this year, it looked like. Where had his friends gotten to? Jack crouched down to better see the kid. "Found you," he said with a smile.

The kid flinched, took one look at the pale, gangly, creepy thing staring at him through the darkness, and burst into terrified tears.

"Ah! No! Nononono!" Jack stammered in panic. "No, don't cry! It's alright!" He reached out to try to comfort the kid but the boy only shrank back and started to wail louder.

Jack looked around desperately. He'd never made a kid cry before, and it felt _terrible_. What was he even supposed to do at this point? He was too spooky looking to calm the kid down right now, and trying to pick the kid up on anything would only make it worse, probably. "Pitch!" he called out.

The boogeyman appeared next to him, peering at the kid over Jack's shoulder. "Oh my, you're better at this than I thought. Well done."

Jack made a strangled noise of frustration and stress. "That is not something I want to hear right now! How am I supposed to fix this?"

Pitch grinned. "Are you really asking _me_ for advice on how to comfort a terrified child?"

"_Pitch," _Jack growled.

"Oh, fine," Pitch replied, rolling his eyes. "I'll go fetch Katherine, then."

The boogeyman vanished again and Jack was left for one long moment, watching over the hysterical child and gnawing worriedly on his bottom lip. (The fake teeth were, fortunately, not as sharp as they looked.) Then a wad of leaves suddenly smacked into the side of his head and sprayed earthy detritus everywhere, making him cough and sputter and twist around to see who chucked the stuff at him. A woman dressed in camo gear and carrying a flashlight came striding through the woods.

"Begone, foul creature!" she yelled. "You won't be eating any kids on my watch!"

Jack grinned in relief and hopped away, the wind picking him up and letting him land lightly in the boughs of a nearby tree to watch.

"There now, it's gone," Kathy said, bending down to extend a hand to the kid. The boy threw himself forward and clung to her tightly, shaking. "Let's get out of here."

Jack watched them both head off into the woods, letting out a relieved, shuddering breath.

"It's really quite depressing, you know. To see you have so much talent, but no spirit for scaring at all," Pitch said, suddenly leaning against the trunk of the tree with crossed arms, sounding wistful. "You could be so much more."

"Yeah, but then I wouldn't be _me_, would I?" Jack replied, rolling off of the branch and landing lightly on the ground.

"…I suppose not," Pitch admitted.

"Besides, I'm pretty sure that most of my 'talent' is thanks to your efforts with this get-up," Jack gestured at his costume.

Pitch lifted his head proudly and Jack swore he could actually see the boogeyman's ego grow in size. "It really is a masterpiece, isn't it?"

"Well, it's really something. Mostly it's just itchy, though. Can't wait for the morning when I can finally get it off."

"But you'll be destroying _art_, Jack."

"Too bad," Jack replied with a shrug.

* * *

_Author's note- Oh, right, Kathy is the same girl from chapters 4, 37, and 38. She's grown up a fair bit now, she's in her mid-twenties or thereabouts. She still attends the Escapes._


	57. Skating

"Alright, Pitch, the weather's gotten cold enough now! Are you ready?" Jack asked.

Pitch frowned and gave the grinning boy a questioning look. "Ready for what, exactly?"

"For your skating lessons!"

"...Excuse me? What gave you the impression that I would ever be_ remotely_ interested in that sort of thing?"

"Well, you taught me to ride Nightmares, right? And I did say that I'd teach to skate in return. So really, I'm just holding up my end of the bargain..." Jack replied with a innocent smile.

Pitch's eyes narrowed. "I did not_ teach_ you to ride the Nightmares. I talked one into giving you a ride for one night. That's all."

"Hey, that's close enough for me! Now come on, do I have to drag you to the pond myself?"

"That is not going to happen, Jack."

"Oh, don't be such a wet blanket," Jack cajoled.

"I said no!" Pitch hissed and dropped away into a patch of shadow.

Jack sighed and shook his head. "You can't hide forever, Pitch."

* * *

As much as Pitch hated to admit it, Jack was right. He couldn't just avoid this idiocy forever.

Jack could be ridiculously stubborn when it came to these sorts of things and Pitch didn't particularly feel like trying to avoid him for the rest of eternity. Sooner or later the infuriating boy would manage to drag him out onto some forsaken lake and try to get him to participate in the sort of antics that the frost spirit was famous for. And, of course, it would be humiliating.

Unless Pitch did something about that beforehand.

So he'd decided he'd learn on his own. It couldn't possibly be that hard, but he could get any falling and flailing out of the way when no one was around to see him.

And when Jack finally managed to get him to try skating, he could bowl over the boy with his 'natural talent'.

Yes, that was a good plan. Already he was enjoying mental images of Jack being shocked and him being able to scoff at the Guardian for thinking that the Nightmare King could be anything but graceful.

In the dead of the night, Pitch slipped out of his lair and found an isolated, frozen-over pond. Nightmare sand formed blades beneath his feet and he took a few wobbling steps (it was harder to balance on the things that he had thought it would be) down the slope and onto the ice.

"Agh!" Immediately his feet went out from under him and he landed hard on his tailbone on the pond's surface.

A snarl ripped out of his throat and he glared balefully at the ice. He was the Nightmare King, the boogeyman, the fear that lurked in the hearts of men! He had held sway over the whole world once, and he would do so again! A patch of frozen water would not get the best of him! He levered himself to his feet.

Four more attempts and several aching body parts later, Pitch had finally swallowed his pride enough to summon a Hellhound to his side. The beast grew long, sharp claws and latched them securely into the ice's surface, letting it be a secure bulwark that Pitch could cling to as he took a few hesitant, clumsy steps forward.

"Whatcha doing there, Pitch?" A bright voice asked from behind him.

The boogeyman gasped and whirled around and lost his balance. He managed to lunge out and grab a hold of shaggy, sandy fur just as his feet slid off in the opposite direction. He found himself at a 45 degree angle to the ground, his death grip on his Hellhound the only thing keeping him from falling facefirst onto the ice.

A barely-muffled snicker made him snap his head around to glare at Jack Frost, who was practically doubled over with mirth. "Nothing! Not a thing! Sod off!" he snarled.

"Not a chance, Pitch! This is the best thing I've seen all week!" Jack gasped out, his voice strangled with laughter.

"I despise you," Pitch grumbled darkly as he tried to lever himself back up into a standing position. There was a patch of shadows cast by some trees only a few yards away. If he could get to those he could phase away and try to pretend that this night never happened.

Not that Jack would ever let him forget it.

A chill breeze gusted over him and cold hands hooked under his arms, lifting him a few inches off the ground. He was set back on his feet and Jack landed lightly on the ice a few feet away, still wearing a grin that made Pitch want to shove him down a pit and leave him there for a century or two.

"I was doing perfectly fine," Pitch hissed, glowering at the Guardian.

"Yeah, I can see that. It's not like walking, you know. You gotta push off with the sides of your feet, like this." He glided in a easy circle around Pitch as the boogeyman crossed his arms and ground his teeth. He came to a halt in front of him again. "Hey, come on, you wanna throttle me right now, don't you? You're never gonna accomplish that if you just stand there..."

Pitch lunged forward with a snarl. Jack slid easily out of the way and hooked his staff around the boogeyman's middle before Pitch could fall over again, hauling him back into a standing position. He snatched the staff back just as the boogeyman made a swipe for it.

"Gotta do better than that, now."

"I am going to _skin you alive_!" Pitch shrieked.

"You're going to have to catch me first!" Jack replied with a laugh.

The next while was a series of Pitch growling and scrambling over the ice, trying to get a hold of the winter spirit that danced just out of his grasp each time.

"Oh, so close!"

"Too slow!"

"I think you almost touched my hoodie that time!"

The boogeyman really did seem to be improving on the skates, though, and each time Jack's evasive maneuvers seemed just a little less effortless.

Finally, with a little help from some shadows that grabbed the Guardian by his ankles, Pitch managed to grab Jack and hurl him facefirst into a snowdrift. "Hah!" he crowed triumphantly, breathing hard. "And now you're-" A ray of sunlight suddenly shone on him, making him hiss and recoil back into a patch of shadow. It was dawn already?

Jack extricated himself from the snow and sat up with a grin. "Aw, what's the matter, Pitch? Got a problem with a little sun?"

Pitch's eyes narrowed, partially in ire and partially against the glare of the light on the ice all around him. "Thank your lucky stars, boy. You've been spared _for now_," he growled.

"Oh believe me, I'm shaking in my boots," Jack replied, smirking, and Pitch faded back into the darkness, fleeing the daylight.


	58. Search

_Author's note- Hey, it's been a while since I filled one of LittleMana's prompts. Let's fix that._

* * *

Pitch was in the middle of crafting a doozy of a nightmare for one unlucky child when he felt a sudden flare of the ice-cold fear he'd grown so attuned to. It faded almost as soon as it had come, though. What had that been? Was Jack in trouble again?

Well, the Guardian seemed to be constantly in trouble, so it wasn't like that was anything new. Besides, he couldn't sense any fear from the boy any more. He'd probably just been startled by something.

And in any case, he was still cross with Jack for the skating incident, still mulling over exactly how to get back at the Guardian for that fiasco. Why should he care if the little brat had finally gotten what was coming to him? He wasn't under any obligation to try to stop Jack from getting his scrawny little neck broken.

…Though he would be put out if anyone managed to throttle the Guardian before he did. And he was a bit curious as to what had happened, Jack typically didn't startle that easily.

Pitch decided that he would finish spinning this nightmare before he went to investigate.

Half an hour later Pitch drew himself up out of the spindly shadow of a birch tree somewhere in Ireland and scanned the area. No sign of Jack, or anyone else. There was some ice splashed up against a nearby outcropping of stones and there were scuffmarks and indentations in the surrounding terrain. Signs of a struggle?

Well, there wasn't any blood, so he doubted it was serious. He'd ask Jack what happened the next time he saw him. Pitch gave out a command to his patrolling Nightmares to inform him when they came across the Guardian.

After half a day had passed with no sign of Jack reported, though, Pitch started to feel a twinge of unease.

No, no, everything was fine. Jack was probably just on the side of the world where it was still daytime.

Well, shadows were cast almost everywhere, so that would hardly stop Pitch. And so the boogeyman merged with the shadows and spread his awareness, peering out through the darkness of the world. First the colder places of the world, areas where he could sense the thrills of fear caused by a sled going too fast down a slope, the sudden jerk when someone's feet slid out from under them.

Nothing.

Siberia, nothing.

Greenland, nothing.

The Arctic Circle, nothing.

Nothing, nothing, nothing!

This was ridiculous! It had never been so hard to find Jack! It was almost as if he was hidden from Pitch...

Actually, that would explain this. Someone was trying to keep Jack from him. Well, he would just have to find them and _dissuade_ them from attempting that particular folly.

And there were only a few beings that had both the ability and motivation to conceal someone from him.

It narrowed down the field of suspects considerably.

* * *

The Workshop was having as peaceful a day as could be expected, considering it was home to hundreds of elves and there never seemed to be an end to the messes they got into.

However, this atmosphere of happy chaos was shattered when the front doors of the Workshop were violently thrown open and Pitch came striding in with legions of Nightmares and Hellhounds roiling and snarling all around him. In that moment he looked every inch the Nightmare King, dark and feral and dangerous.

"WHERE IS HE?" Pitch demanded in a voice that seemed to echo with the screams of a thousand different voices, that resonated like the howling of wolves in the dead of night. He leveled his scythe at the Guardian of Wonder, eyes aflame with hatred as his voice dropped to a low, dark snarl."You will tell me, now, or I will bring this place down around your ears!"

North immediately drew his sabers and the Yetis scrambled to grab whatever weapons were at hand. "Who, Pitch?" he asked grimly.

"You know! Jack Frost. I cannot find him and that means you lot are hiding him from me. _You have no right,_" Pitch hissed.

"Jack is missing?" North said, eyes widening and brow furrowing.

Pitch seemed to falter slightly at this. His eyes narrowed."You don't have him?"

North shook his head."Nyet. I have not talked to Jack since last week."

Well. that was unexpected. He'd been almost certain he'd be faced with righteous fury, warnings to stay away from poor innocent Jack, something like that.

And the Guardians weren't good at being deceptive. They'd never had to be. Really, they couldn't tell a lie to save their lives. He'd personally had plenty of experience with lies, and North didn't seem to be attempting one. There was no hint of fear in the air about being found out. But if North was telling the truth…

Pitch took a moment to glance calculatingly around the Workshop. He had already mustered a fighting force now. It would be a shame to just waste it. He was sure he could cause enough of a fight to seriously hamper, maybe even stop the production of toys altogether. Jack wasn't here to get in his way with his stupid Guardian obligations. And with Christmas only a month away, it could end up being a crippling blow for the doddering old fool…

But Jack was still missing. And destroying the Workshop, cathartic though it would be, wouldn't help find him. Pitch had to prioritize.

He bared his teeth at the Cossack. "Useless," he growled, before turning on his heel and taking his leave, his hordes streaming out the door alongside him.

* * *

Another search, this time even more exhaustive, _still_ didn't produce any results. He'd looked high and low, from the Himalayas to the Serengeti and there was not hide nor hair to be seen of the frost spirit. He'd even crept through the Guardians' home bases and there wasn't a sign of Jack to be found.

By now he was trying to fight down a rising panic that had his Nightmares eying him hungrily.

Jack couldn't be gone. He couldn't. He... he had plenty of believers! He should be fine!

The Sandman had plenty of believers too, and Pitch had still managed to...

No! No, that hadn't happened, not to Jack. It couldn't have. He wouldn't allow it.

Pitch snarled and backhanded a Nightmare that came too close. "Get out!" he roared, and the Nightmare turned tail and ran. Pitch let out a shuddering breath and ran a shaky hand through his hair.

As much as he hated to admit it, he needed help. Shadows weren't found everywhere, and Jack might be in a place he wasn't able to reach. He needed someone who didn't face the same limitations as him, preferably someone with a large workforce to make searching quicker...

Oh no.

No.

He would not stoop to that.

He refused.

…Damn it all.

* * *

Pitch stepped onto one of the many platforms of the Tooth Palace, dodging several mini-fairies that nearly flew into him. Gads, the little pests were everywhere.

"Toothiana. You are going to assist me," Pitch stated, crossing his arms.

"Excuse me?" Tooth said, raising an eyebrow.

Pitch buffed his nails on his sleeve nonchalantly, humming. "Well, that is, if you ever want to see Jack again, you will."

"What did you do, Pitch?"

"Nothing at all. But he's missing. I've been looking for him. He's nowhere to be found in the dark, but since you're all _sunshine and rainbows_," -Pitch said those last words in a tone normal reserved for expletives of the foulest type- "You and your little tag-alongs should be able to look through places where the shadows don't touch."

"...All right. I'll get some volunteers together. But I'm doing this for Jack."

Pitch rolled his eyes. "You could be doing this for the Queen of England for all I care."

* * *

Pitch had lurked at the Tooth Palace in the hours since then, despite the Guardian's protests. He currently was holed up in a shadowy corner, watching with hungry, glowing eyes as Tooth sent out her fairies and listened to the reports from the returning ones. It made their feathers puff out in unease, and judging from the scowl on the boogeyman's face he was enjoying this set-up no more than they were.

It got worse when an excited mini-fairy returned, peeping triumphantly. Tooth gasped in delight. "You found him?" The fairy nodded and started into a series of squeaks and chirps.

Almost immediately, Pitch blinked into existence directly in front of Tooth and grabbed her by the shoulders. "WHERE?" he demanded.

"Ireland! Let go-"

Pitch fell back into the shadows, dragging the fairy along with him. Once they were on a shadowy hillside, Pitch let go. "Take me to him."

Tooth wiped off her shoulders distastefully. "You're being-"

"_Now_." Pitch snarled.

The Guardian of Memories threw up her hands exasperatedly. "If it will get you out of my feathers…" She glanced around once to get her bearings, then flew off. A short while later she stopped at a circle of stones. "Lugh, it's Tooth!" she called out, and the ground within the circle caved in, letting beams of bright yellow light spill out.

Through the light Pitch could just make out the figure of a large, athletic-looking warrior passing by the opening, smiling brightly. He had a long spear strapped to his back and was carrying something. "Tooth! You made it just in time for-"

Pitch realized what the object in Lugh's hands was. Jack staff. Jack's staff in _pieces._ An inhuman sound of rage ripped out of his throat and he snatched his scythe out of thin air, striding forward into the light, heedless of how it made his skin itch and burn.

Tooth flew in Pitch's path, holding up her hands. "Wait! Stop! He's not-"

Pitch growled wordlessly and drew back his scythe to swat the meddlesome fairy out of the air. He'd get his hands on this spirit who _dared _to hurt Jack and tear him limb from limb and if the fairy got in his way she'd suffer the same fa-

"Pitch!"

The boogeyman froze at the voice and snapped his head to one side to see Jack, with a black eye but otherwise whole, leaning against a doorway and glaring at him.

His eyes flicked to Tooth for an instant and he tried to hide his scythe behind his back. "Oh, there you are. What happened?"

"Oh, a bunch of daemons got the jump on me. One of them broke my staff and I, uh, must've passed out. Lugh chased them off, but I just woke up now. Lugh was getting me it so that I could fix it up and be on my way," Jack said, giving Pitch a pointed look.

Pitch let the weapon dissolve and awkwardly coughed into his fist.

"I owe Sandy one. When I saw one of his teammates in trouble in my territory, I had to lend a hand," the warrior added, slowly lowering his hand from where it had been gripping his spear. He walked over and handed the pieces to Jack. "Though I unaware you kept such… unsavory company."

"Aw, he's not so bad. Mostly." Jack replied with a shrug. He held the two pieces of the staff together and closed his eyes. A flash of blue light and a wave of cold swept through the room, and Jack twirled his newly-mended staff around his fingers. "Good as new!"

Pitch glowered at Lugh. Now that he knew Jack was alright, the rage was fading away and he was becoming aware of just how bloody uncomfortable it was to be standing in such a bright place. "The feeling is mutual, I assure you. With any luck, we will never meet again." He turned around and walked out of the domain, since there were no shadows for him to fade into.

* * *

_Author's Note- Lugh is an Irish deity/High King associated with light, if you're wondering._


	59. History

_Author's note- Whoops, I wrote some sads. Sorry about that. There's some references to Chapter 26-Loss in this chapter, if you're wondering what they're talking about._

* * *

There was one day a year that Jack never came to the lair to visit, never tracked down the boogeyman on his nightly haunts to trade taunts and conversation. It had taken Pitch a while to notice, since they hardly interacted on a daily basis normally anyway. Even now he wasn't sure it meant anything. Maybe it was just a coincidence. It was during winter, after all, and Jack Frost had his hands full with his duties at that time.

But all the same, Pitch was curious.

And so he'd tracked Jack down just as the Guardian touched down in an old churchyard and strode purposefully through the rows of headstones. Odd place for Jack to be really, though Pitch was right at home in this sort of place as he slipped through the shadows, watching.

The Guardian stopped in one isolated corner of the churchyard and grinned, slinging his staff over one shoulder. "Hey kiddo. That time of the year again, old Jack Frost's come to visit. Sick of me yet?"

Was there a child in this place? No, there wasn't any reply as Jack continued to talk, facing a small, worndown gravestone. Oh.

"Been up to some neat stuff lately! There's this little town in Canada, they throw the best winter festivals I've seen in a long time! With a little help from yours truly, of course…" Jack launched into what seemed to be a play-by-play recap of everything he'd been up to as of late, settling down next to the stone and wrapping one arm familiarly around it.

"…And you wouldn't _believe_ the looks on their faces! Man, it was great!" Jack finished at length, laughing. "Oh, and Pitch? I know lurking in the shadows is kinda your thing but you can come out any time, you know. Come say hi!"

Pitch smiled wryly and stepped forward, shadows sliding off of him like water. "Spotted me, did you? I suppose I have to brush up on my stalking skills."

"It's that creepy atmosphere you've got. Makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up, kind of a dead giveaway there."

"Ah." Pitch shrugged. "So this is your sister, I presume?"

"Yep, the one and only. This is the anniversary, you know. The last time-" Jack's smile faltered, for just an instant. "The day I saved her, I mean."

"And you did well. She _lived_ because of you, Jack." Pitch's gaze flickered to the writing on the grave. "For good long time, it looks like."

"I know. And I don't regret what I did. Not ever. And it's not like I didn't see her… afterwards. I didn't remember her, but we played together, as much as we could have when I was invisible. I just… I wish I could have talked with her one more time. Just once," he said wistfully. Jack splayed his hand on the gravestone and delicate, intricate patterns of frost bloomed and raced over the granite. "But you know? For those three hundred years, I could listen to people even when they couldn't see me. I was still there, even if they didn't know it. And I think that she can do the same sort of thing now. Maybe like how I watched over her, when she was a kid, she watches over me now. So I always try to find time to catch her up on how things have been going."

"What was it that you told me, some years back? Just because they're gone, it doesn't mean they've left?" Pitch asked.

Jack let out a chuckle. "Still remember that, do you? Guess I made an impression."

"It's not every day that someone tries to comfort the boogeyman," Pitch replied airily.

"Yeah, well, don't worry about returning the favor. You'd be terrible at it anyhow." Jack replied dismissively, waving a hand.

"You really do know me too well, don't you?"

"Yeah, I do."

For a little while they just lapsed into companionable silence.

Then something occurred to Jack. "…Hey, Pitch? Is there anyone who you miss, you know, from back when you were human?"

"I wasn't," the boogeyman replied with a shrug.

"What?"

"I wasn't ever human. There's always been fear, Jack. And I've always been there."

"C'mon. I've only been around for three hundred some years, and there was definitely fun before I was here. Tooth said we were all someone before we were chosen."

Pitch laughed at that, a sharp, brittle sound. "Therein lies the difference between you and I, Jack. You were chosen, valuable, wanted. And I am not. No one _chose_ me. I simply am."

"Didn't _someone_ name you?"

"The first thing I remember was waking in pitch blackness. I took the name for myself," Pitch replied simply.

"…Were you alone ever since then?" Jack asked softly, after a pause.

Pitch rounded on Jack, anger sparking in his gaze. "I don't need your _pity_, Jack. I had- I have_ always_ had a purpose. At my birth, I knew that I was meant to spread fear. I was meant to strike terror into the hearts of humanity. And I did! I did until you lot _stole_ that from me!" Pitch snarled, hands curling into fists. He stalked towards Jack before he seemed to realize what he was doing and halted mid-stride. He clenched his jaw and wrenched his gaze off of the Guardian, jerkily turning his head to look off in the distance. He let out a long, hissing breath before he spoke again. "So, to answer your question, no. There's no one who I miss. There is no one _to_ miss."

It took Jack a moment to respond. "…Okay, then."

"I won't disturb you any longer," Pitch stated flatly, and melted back into the shadows, leaving a somewhat confused Jack behind.


	60. Disagreement

_Author's Note- Oops, sorry guys, family's been visiting and my free time has been all but devoured. I didn't mean to let the updates lapse this long, though. My bad. Here, have a thing._

* * *

Pitch was lounging on his throne, half dozing and idly carding his fingers through the sandy pelt of a Hellhound that was nuzzled up against his side. He'd had a very productive evening, filled to the brim with gasps and shrieks of terror, and he was feeling sated and content and lazy. Half-formed concepts for new frights and nightmares swirled and danced past his lidded eyes.

Everything seemed right with the world, which of course meant it wasn't going to last.

A shrill, dreadful, and discordant blast of noise echoed through the lair, jerking Pitch rudely out of his reverie and setting the Hellhound growling.

Pitch stumbled to his feet, clapping his hands over his ears as the noise continued. Was this some sort of new attack from the Guardians? It sounded like a dying animal. Shoving aside his initial inclination to get away from whatever was making that racket, Pitch strode through his lair as imposingly as it was possible to be with his fingers still stuffed in his ears. If the fool thought they could drive him away so easily, they were in for a rude awakening.

He reached the area where the perpetrator was, and he realized he really shouldn't have been surprised.

Jack was perched on one of the cages near the entrance to the lair, blowing enthusiastically into a harmonica he had cupped in his hands. The brat must have had one heck of a lung capacity to produce the volume of screeches that were reverberating through Pitch's home.

"Stop that!" Pitch shouted over the din.

Jack paused and looked up, flashing Pitch one of his usual grins. "Oh, hi. How's it going?"

"What the devil are you doing?!" Pitch demanded.

"Practicing, of course!" Jack replied cheerily, tossing the harmonica from hand to hand. "I found this in the snow in Michigan and I thought I might as well try to learn something new."

"And _what_, pray tell, gave you the impression that here would be the best place for you to do that?"

"Well, um, all the other Guardians threw me out when I went to their places," Jack replied, slightly sheepishly.

Pitch folded his arms. "And you don't think that I'll do the same?"

"Nope! I'm your best pal, after all, and you put up with all kinds of stuff from me. Besides, you like dancing, I can provide musical accompaniment," Jack said with a smile, starting to lift the harmonica back to his lips.

"You do think rather highly of yourself, don't you?" Pitch asked, eyes narrowing.

"Am I wrong?" Jack replied.

Pitch rolled his eyes. "Well, you're right about one thing, I'll grant you. I'm nothing like the Guardians, and I'm not going to throw you out."

Jack grinned in triumph, at least until a coil of nightmare sand looped around the harmonica and yanked it sharply out of his hand. "Hey!"

"No, doing that would only delay the issue, not solve it. Instead…" The nightmare sand deposited the instrument in Pitch's hand and he idly turned it this way and that, as if inspecting it. "I'm going to throw _this_ out." He tossed the harmonica to the side and it was swallowed by shadows.

"Give it back, you jerk!" Jack demanded, springing to his feet and looking irritated.

"Hmmm, no. I don't think I will." Pitch replied, turning around and fluttering his fingers in an airy farewell. "Stick to making snow, Frost."

"You'll regret this, Pitch!"

"I'm shaking in my boots," Pitch drawled, disappearing back into the depths of his lair.

* * *

The next several weeks definitely _did not _see Pitch regretting his decision. No. Definitely not.

He simply began to wish that he lived in a universe without any musical instruments in it.

Because Jack seemed determined to use each and every single one that had ever been invented to try to drive him insane. Pitch was certain that the Guardian was raiding North's Christmas supplies, because he didn't know how else Jack was managing to get his hands on everything from a kazoo to a full one-man band as he dropped randomly out of the sky to assail the boogeyman's ears once more.

Pitch would have thought there was at least one instrument that Jack wouldn't be completely terrible with, but he was wrong. That or Jack was purposefully butchering every note he made just to make Pitch even more miserable.

The last straw had been when Jack dropped by the window of a child's bedroom with a _bassoon_, of all things, just as Pitch was coaxing a Nightmare to its full potential. The deep, booming blast of noise startled the boy awake and ruined all of Pitch's hard work.

The boogeyman let out an aggravated snarl, dragging his hands down his face in exasperation. Without so much as a glance in Jack's direction, he vanished.

* * *

The next several weeks saw the boogeyman promptly melting away as soon as Jack came anywhere near, usually before he could even get a word out.

It was a bit weird, really. Jack had never taken Pitch to be one to give out the silent treatment. But the Nightmare King seemed very set on ignoring Jack's existence and that was surprisingly very effective in bothering the frost spirit. It seemed like he still had an issue with being treated like he was invisible, even after all these years.

"Hey, Pitch, why're you avoiding me? Do you admit defeat?" Jack asked, finally flitting into the lair and alighting on a jut on stone. He decided he'd stay put and pester Pitch for as long as he had to, to get the boogeyman talking to him again. Though it turned out that he needn't have worried.

"Oh no, Jack. I was simply waiting for you to be foolish enough to set foot in my domain again…" Pitch's voice echoed from the darkness, and the shadows all around him rose up and dragged him down, down through a dizzying drop and a juddering stop.

Jack found himself in a cavern that seemed to have been abandoned for years, a thick coating of dust laying over everything. Not a breath of air stirred in the depths, no sounds reached the Guardian's ears but that of his own breathing, everything seemed to be utterly still and silent and dead. It certainly _felt_ like Pitch's lair, as though something dark and twisted could come shambling out of the shadows at any moment, but this was no place that Jack had ever seen before. "Hm. Well, I'll give it a 7 for atmosphere." He said lightly, slinging his staff over his shoulders. "What's the deal with this?"

"You interfered with my _job,_ Jack. I don't take kindly to that. So you're going to stay here out of the way while I do what I do best," Pitch's cold voice answered him from the shadows, though no gleam of eyes or teeth could be seen.

"Pfft. You think _this _will be able to keep me out of your hair?" Jack asked, raising an eyebrow and glancing around.

"Oh, I don't think you understand just how deep the shadows go, Jack. It might take you _years_ to find your way to the surface… Maybe when I come back from tonight's scaring I'll bring you out. Or maybe I'll find the peace and quiet just to my fancy. Who knows?"

The creepy feeling that Jack had come to associate with the boogeyman faded away, leaving Jack in the darkness. Alone. "Pitch!" Jack called, but there was no response. The Guardian made a frustrated noise and ran his hand through his hair. "Stupid moody dramatic jerk. I have work to do too, you butt!" he yelled out through the space, but, disquietingly, not even his echo answered him back.

Jack blew out a breath and wandered off in a random direction. Everything looked the same and the sense of no progress being made was annoying. After half an hour Jack shrugged and conjured up a fluffy white bank of snow. No point to stumbling around aimlessly, and it was nice and quiet here. He'd catch some shut-eye, and hopefully it would accomplish both passing the time until Pitch came back _and _not giving Pitch the satisfaction of Jack getting lost and frantic.

He flopped into the snow and burrowed into it, curling up happily, surrounded by his element.

* * *

Pitch was supremely unimpressed when he returned to find Jack snoring peacefully away in the heart of his lair. The sheer, unmitigated _gall_ of the boy…

A small herd of Nightmares had gathered near the Guardian, whickering and eyeing him hungrily, but none made the move to come any closer. Aside from one occasion, Pitch had kept and ruthlessly enforced the order for the Nightmares to leave Jack alone, and by now they all knew better than to try to feed off of the winter spirit. Though Pitch was really not sure _why_ he continued to hold them back, considering how utterly infuriating Jack was.

By all rights, he should sic the Nightmares on Jack, on the boy foolish enough to slumber within the realm of nightmares.

But on the other hand, that would be rather uninspired, wouldn't it?

No, he had a far better idea.

* * *

Jack's eyes fluttered open to daylight. He was outside once more. Pitch must have moved him while he slept. Well, that seemed about in character for the creep…

Jack abruptly became aware that he could feel the little pinpricks of dozens of little legs through the fabric of his hoodie. Dropping his gaze to his chest, he was greeted by the sight of five massive scorpions staring him straight in the face.

His scream echoed through the entire forest and sent whole flocks of birds flying away from the sudden noise.

The insects turned out to have been dead and preserved even before they were flash-frozen, but that was of little comfort to Jack, who could still _feel_ the little legs and pincers against his skin.


	61. Amends

Jack had started dropping in on the Guardians more frequently as of late. And staying longer than he usually did during his visits, too.

Bunnymund was the first to bring it up as they sat side-by-side in the Warren, painting eggs. "Mate, I've seen an awful lot of you lately. North and Tooth and Sandy have, too. Not that I'm complaining or nothing, but is something wrong?"

Jack shrugged. "Well, you know, it's just that time of the year. Winter isn't really in full swing in the Northern or Southern hemisphere yet and I've got a lot of spare time I don't really know what to do with."

"Huh, yeah, I can see that. But shouldn't this be a yearly or bi-yearly occurrence, then?" Bunnymund asked, scratching behind one of his ears.

"Oh, generally I'd just bug Pitch around this time, 'cause you guys are busy a lot," Jack mumbled.

Huh. Bunnymund hadn't been aware of just how much time the two of them spent together, if Pitch usually occupied the time that was now being split between the four other Guardians. He was kind of surprised that Pitch hadn't tried to murder Jack; the Nightmare King had never really struck him as someone who was willing to put up with the antics that Jack was famous for. "Why the change?"

"Pitch is a dumb butt and I don't like him anymore," Jack muttered, crossing his arms and staring off to one side.

"What?" Bunnymund's eyes narrowed. "What'd he do?"

"He put bugs on me!" Jack exclaimed indignantly.

Bunnymund paused for a second, blinking. Then he let out a half-stifled snort of laughter, raising one paw to hide the grin spreading over his face. "He what?"

"Hey, it's not funny!"

"No, no, you're right. It's completely awful. Truly his evil knows no bounds," the Easter Guardian intoned solemnly, but the mirthful shaking of his shoulders belied his seriousness.

"They were big ones!"

"Ah, mate, one of these days I gotta show you some of the beasties we've got down under. Then you can talk about big bugs," Bunnymund replied, ruffling Jack's hair.

Jack grumbled and gave Bunnymund a light shove. "I'm surrounded by wiseasses."

"Hey, it takes one to know one, ya gallah."

Jack cracked a smile. "Yeah, that's true enough. I'm probably the worst one. Hey, d'you think that means I can get crowned High King of the Wiseasses?"

"Only if I get to be your advisor."

"But isn't the advisor typically the one who tries to overthrow the king and take the throne for his own?"

"Too right," Bunnymund replied with a smirk.

Jack gasped and pressed a hand to his chest in mock mortification. "Treason! Treason in the ranks! Off with his head!"

The rest of the visit dissolved into a playful scuffle and an impromptu snowball fight.

* * *

At first, the Guardians were relieved that Jack didn't seem to be associating with Pitch anymore. After all, he was still the Nightmare King, and supposed to be their enemy.

But after two weeks of Jack's near-constant presence, seemingly inexhaustible energy, and boundless enthusiasm for all things icy and slippery, the Guardians were starting to rethink that opinion. During a rare quiet moment they gathered up at the Workshop to discuss the situation. The lot of them looked weary and bedraggled.

Tooth wrung her hands. "I mean it's not like I don't like having him around or anything like that, the girls and I all love Jack! But the way he's being right now is just, just…"

"Exhausting?" Bunnymund supplied.

Sandy nodded sleepily.

"Da, and the yetis are not so happy about having to defrost everything every other day, either," North added.

"I don't understand, though. He's always been energetic, but usually he isn't quite so manic..." Tooth said, smoothing down some of her askew feathers.

North stroked his beard. "Might be compensating? Could be that he misses Pitch but does not want to think about it, so has to keep busy all the time."

"Come on, North, who would miss _Pitch_?" Bunnymund said dismissively.

"They have been friends for many years now, almost as long as he has been a Guardian. Is not so surprising," North replied with a shrug.

"...If Jack's doing something like this, what do you think Pitch is doing?" Tooth mused aloud, looking pensive.

There was a moment of silence at that last statement, then the Guardians looked at each other with wide eyes. As much as Pitch tried to deny it, Jack had been a good influence on him. The rest of them could almost forget, at times, that this boogeyman was the same one they'd been enemies with for centuries. What sort of behavior could they expect if that influence suddenly went away?

"Oh, that could be bad," North muttered, remembering the incident at the Workshop when Jack had gone missing. "Sandy, has Pitch been doing anything out of the ordinary with the Nightmares during the evenings?"

Sandy bit his lip in thought, then shook his head. He created a silhouette of the boogeyman and made an X with his arms.

"You haven't seen Pitch making any personal visits recently?" North asked.

Sandy shook his head again.

"So he's been staying in his lair?" Tooth wondered.

"That or he's just been flying under the radar," Bunnymund said with a frown. "What should we do?"

"Well, easiest solution would be to have them be friends again," North said.

Bunnymund groaned and rested his face in his paw. "I cannot believe I'm agreeing to this."

"But how would we even do that?" Tooth asked.

Sandy conjured a snowflake, a slim silhouette, and some speech bubbles.

"You think just getting them to talk would work?"

"Well, Jack forgave Pitch for… evil. Bugs shouldn't be big deal." North replied.

"True. If he's gonna nurse a grudge over this point of all things, we're really gonna need to talk to him about priorities," Bunnymund said.

* * *

The plan to get Jack to talk to Pitch was somewhat less than inspired. At least part of that could be blamed on the fact that Jack flitted into the workshop right in the middle of their brainstorming session, however.

"Hey guys, what's happening?"

"Jack, do you think you could go have a word with Pitch?" Tooth blurted out.

"What? Why?" Jack asked, the smile dropping off of his face.

"Er…" North's eyes scanned the workshop. "The elves have been having nightmares. We think Pitch might be responsible."

Jack raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Elves."

"…Yes, that's right," Bunnymund said stiffly, and Sandy slapped a hand over his own forehead.

Jack cracked a smile again, shaking his head. "You guys… Well, the elves are _very_ important. I suppose if you think it's necessary for me to do this…"

* * *

When Jack came into the lair, the boogeyman was lurking off to one side, a mass of nightmare sand swirling in front of him. Shadows slid over his skin seemingly of their own accord, sometimes looking jagged and sharp and other times dripping over his form like water or blood. More shadows pooled at his feet, writhing and reaching out along walls and floors with clawed-tipped hands in jerky, inhuman movements.

Pitch seemed to pay them no mind, instead muttering and coaxing the nightmare sand before him to shift into the image of ever more disturbing apparitions and monstrosities.

Jack drifted over, hovering nearby. He noted absentmindedly Pitch's shadows all seemed to converge on the shadow he cast on the ground, swarming it.

"Are you _sulking_?" Jack asked, raising one eyebrow.

Pitch paused and turned his head minutely until he was able to fix Jack with one baleful yellow eye. "What do you want, Frost?"

"Oh, you know, I just came here to tell you that I'm willing to admit I was right if you're ready to admit that you were wrong," Jack replied, raising his hands and shrugging his shoulders.

"If you think there's a snowball's chance in hell of that happening…" Pitch growled.

"Fine, fine, I'll settle for just an apology then. You don't even have to grovel, much."

"I refuse to apologize for something that was completely justified."

"You trapped me in your lair and dumped _scorpions_ on me!"

"I was provoked!"

The Guardians all cautiously peered into the lair, watching from a distance as Jack talked to Pitch.

"Do you think they're they reconciling?" Tooth asked in a whisper.

"I can't tell-"

There was a sudden yelp and the Guardians quickly snapped their gazes back to the pair. Jack had been grabbed by the ankle by a coil of nightmare sand and yanked upwards. He was dangling upside down and was being yelled at by Pitch. Jack hollered something back and a powerful gust of wind whipped past the Guardians and barreled down on Pitch, snatching at his robes and flipping the back of it up over Pitch's head. The boogeyman cursed and flailed, tangled in his own clothing.

The Guardians breathed a collective sigh of relief. "Yep. They're back to normal."


	62. Tastes

The both of them wound up in the same town one night and a sort of wordless agreement to take a break had been reached. Pitch had seated himself at the edge of a tall apartment building, absentmindedly tapping his fingers on the brick and looking up at the snow-clouded night sky.

Jack was laying on his back, letting his head dangle off the edge and staring out at the upside-down view of the city that he was granted. "Hey, Pitch, what's your favorite food?" He asked, watching lights blink on and off in the windows of the city below.

"Favorite?" Pitch leaned back on his arms, humming pensively. "My, that's a tough question. How am I supposed to pick just one?" He clicked his tongue against his teeth. "I suppose, if I was pressed, I'd say the it's that thrill of terror and apprehension when someone steps into a dark and unknown area. When all manner of things spring to their imagination and they realize just how vulnerable they are…" He shivered in delight at the thought.

Jack sat up gave the boogeyman a flat look. "That's not what I meant."

"Oh, but fear _is_ my sustenance, Jack. My bread and butter, as it were. You should know that by now."

"I was talking about actual physical food, alright?"

"Fine, fine," Pitch acquiesced, holding his hands up and bowing his head slightly. He lifted his head and flashed a sharp-toothed smile. "Children, then."

"Pitch…"

"Haven't you heard the tales, Jack? Of the things I do with misbehaving children?" He chuckled and dissolved into a shadow. The shade slunk close to where Jack lay. "Sometimes I'll start my way from the toes up, one by one…" Shadowy hands slid over Jack's bare feet, seeming to curl around to grip his ankles. There was no sensation of touch, though, only the sight of darkness on his skin.

Jack snorted and drew his feet back, out of the clutches of the boogeyman. Pitch's shadowy form flitted into the patch of darkness cast on the roof by the edge of the building.

"Or other times I'll begin with the ears. Those are always nice and tender…" This time there was a touch, a quick tug on one of Jack's earlobes.

"Quit it," Jack said with a half-laugh, swatting ineffectively at the darkness.

"Oh, and the eyes are such a treat. They burst in your mouth like grapes."

"Gross, Pitch." Jack replied, sticking out his tongue.

"Can't say I've ever done too much with noses, though. Maybe you can give me some pointers, you're always supposed to be nipping at them yourself, aren't you?"

"That's just a saying."

"Is it? Such a shame…" Pitch winked back into tangibility, several yards away. "Then what's your idea of a treat, if not the succulent cartilage of the young?"

Jack rolled his eyes. "Sweets. Ice cream in particular."

"How very shocking. Truly you are an endless well of surprises, Jack."

"Oh, you want unexpected? Well, Tooth introduced me to kaeng phet, and I like that too!"

"…What is that? Some kind of toothpaste?"

Jack grinned. "Oh, you should try it."

Pitch looked apprehensive. "If that's your reaction I'm actually quite sure that I shouldn-"

"I'll bring some for next time! See you!" Jack said with a laugh, leaping off the roof and letting the winds whisk him off to the next town that needed a snowstorm.

Pitch groaned.

* * *

Jack flitted into the lair a few days after that, strangely wearing a pair of heavy mittens and carrying a cloth-swaddled bundle under one arm. He landed near a waist-high slab of rock and set the object down. "Pitch!" he yelled.

"I'm not a being who can just be called out every time you show up, Jack…" Pitch grumbled as he did just that.

"Right, sure. I'll keep that in mind." Jack replied dismissively, unwrapping the bundle and clumsily pulling off the lid of a styrofoam take-out container. The contents, some kind of yellowish sauce and chunks of what were presumably meat or vegetables, steamed faintly. Jack grinned triumphantly and held out a plastic fork to the Nightmare King. "Here, give it a try."

Pitch stared down at the stew or whatever it was. "That does not look appetizing at all."

"Come onnnn. It's even still warm! Do you have any idea how hard that is to pull off?" Jack whined.

"I believe you'll find that I don't particularly care, Frost." Pitch replied.

"Just one bite, Pitch."

"No."

"Just-"

"No."

"One-"

"No."

"Bite."

"No."

"Pleeeeeeeeeeee-"

"Why are you so infuriating?" Pitch growled.

"Just lucky, I guess." Jack replied, grinning.

Pitch let out a snarl and snatched the fork from the Guardian, violently stabbing a hunk of the food and eating it grumpily. "There! Now go- Haaaah!" He let out a shocked breath and clapped a hand over his mouth. "What- what have you done to me?!"

"It's just spicy. This is kaeng phet, a type of Thai curry," Jack replied cheerily.

"It burns!" Pitch exclaimed, and grabbed Jack by the front of his hoodie. "Snow. Now!" he demanded.

Jack chuckled and stripped off one of the mittens and produced a handful of snow, which Pitch promptly took and shoved in his mouth. "Ah, yes, the terror that lurks in the hearts of men," Jack said.

Pitch scraped the snow out of his mouth to snarl: "GET OUT!" and a pack of Hellhounds surged out of the shadows to chase Jack, laughing, back to the entrance of the lair.


	63. Gesture

_Author's Note: Another one of LittleMana's prompts. She comes up with some great ones!_

* * *

At some point Jack became aware of just how often Pitch did things for him. Nice things, at least by Pitch standards. Though of course he'd never get the guy to admit to intending them as such, but that was par for the course with the Nightmare King.

And Jack felt like he could probably stand to give him something that wasn't meant to backfire on Pitch in some way. If for no other reason than that it would keep him off-balance. And besides, Christmas _was _just around the corner. T'was the season.

But what?

Well, Pitch liked creepy things. There were plenty of creepy things around.

Not a spider, though. Or a centipede. Or anything that had more than four legs. He didn't particularly feel like giving Pitch more ammunition in that vein.

He remembered a conversation he had recently with a kid who wanted to grow up to be a marine biologist, and the vast amount of books and pictures that he had been shown. There were_ loads_ of bizarre and unsettling things lurking in the darkest, deepest parts of the ocean.

Something like an anglerfish would be right up Pitch's alley.

Jack grinned and shot off to go have a conversation with Triton.

* * *

Bartering a couple of favours got Jack a downright horrifying-looking fish, with dozens of needle-sharp teeth, blindly white eyes, and tattered black fins, along with an enchanted glass bubble that kept the water pressure at the levels that were normally found three-thousand feet beneath the ocean.

Jack grinned and peered in through the glass. "There's a face that only the boogeyman could love," he said with a chuckle as the fish clacked its teeth at him. Then he noticed that holding onto the glass was sending frost spreading over its surface. "Oops, sorry!" he said, setting the globe down and pulling out a roll of silver wrapping paper.

* * *

Getting Pitch to actually _accept_ the present was more of a task than expected. Maybe he'd been a little bit too enthusiastic with his prank gifts? …Naw, there was no such thing as too many pranks. That'd be silly!

"Look, just give it a chance!" Jack wheedled.

"We've been through this, Frost. I don't want any blasted Christmas presents!" Pitch snapped, crossing his arms and glaring. "Go bother someone with it who _doesn't_ loathe the entire holiday!"

"Could you be any more grouchy?"

"I could try, if you'd like," Pitch replied.

"Don't think of it as a Christmas present then. It'll be, like, a Krampus Day present."

"If _that_ was the worldwide celebration, instead of this sickening fawning over the fat man, then I'd be happy to accept tributes on it. However, it's not. And being reminded of this fact is bringing me the _opposite_ of cheer and goodwill towards men."

"Because you're a regular_ fountain_ of that sort of sentiment normally, right?" Jack retorted, rolling his eyes. "How about a belated birthday present then?"

"I don't _have_ a birthday, Frost."

"Look, would you just take the stupid thing?!" Jack snapped, thrusting the object forward and feeling his powers spike with his irritation. Ice raced over the surface of the wrapping. Jack gasped. "Oh no oh no oh no…"

"What is it _now_?"

Jack set down the globe and tore the wrapping off, revealing the entirely frozen tank. Jack hissed in dismay.

"Is… is that an anglerfish?" Pitch asked with some interest, leaning in for a closer look.

"It was," Jack sighed, tapping the glass glumly. "I didn't mean to…"

"Making a mess as always, Jack."

The Guardian flinched, clutching his staff to his chest, backing away. "Sorry," he mumbled, whether to the fish or to Pitch, he wasn't sure. And in a flurry of snow, he was gone.

Pitch shook his head and sighed.

* * *

Jack was napping in a tree a few days later, resting after the usual rush of white Christmases he had to deliver. He was brought into a kind of wakefulness by a hissing, gurgling whisper that poured over him like salt water and crude oil.

"Jack… Jaaaack… You killed me, Jack…"

Jack grumbled sleepily and his eyes fluttered open. He was greeted by the sight of needle-teeth in a gaping mouth that happened to be inches from his face.

Jack let out a shriek of surprise and horror and recoiled, falling off of his branch. The wind caught him before he hit the ground and he clutched at his chest, panting. A dark chuckle reverberated from the shadows. "You know, I never get tired of that."

"Pitch, what…" he trailed off when he looked up and saw a Nightmare canter up to him, tossing its head. In between the creature's ribs he could see a speck of light darting to and fro. He floated to one side of the horse to get a better look. "Is that-?"

"I was able to salvage the thing, yes. Freezing to death is rarely a quick thing, you should know that. It defrosted reasonably well."

"But why is it in a Nightmare?"

Pitch reappeared beside the horse and shrugged. "My darlings can be quite handy for transporting things, Jack. You remember what a good job they did with the tooth fairies, don't you?" Pitch ran a hand fondly over the creature's flank and the anglerfish followed it, the eerie light emitted from its lure casting all manner of menacing shadows over the predatory teeth and the Nightmare. "Besides, I think it's a lovely addition. This Nightmare is going to be very good at its job. And we'll see which children still think that the beach and sea life are delightful things when I'm done with them. Oh, Sanderson isn't going to know what hit him." Pitch said gleefully, rubbing his hands.

Jack blinked, wondering if he should be concerned about this. Pitch probably wouldn't take kindly to him trying to take the thing back, though."Uh… Well, I'm glad you like it?" he ventured.

"Oh, I very much do."

"Though I'm going to tell you that if you tick Sandy off with this, I'm not going to come to your rescue again."

"Duly noted. Your concern for my wellbeing is touching," Pitch deadpanned.


End file.
